Fremione: The Living Arrangement
by shipaycon
Summary: Hermione Granger owns a flat above her bookstore cafe... and Fred Weasley needs a place to stay. A Fremione fanfiction. Post DH. Fred lives! T for now, M later
1. Chapter 1

All rights to JKR even if she doesn't deserve it. Trans rights are human rights.

Hey, everyone. This is my first Fremione multi chapter fic. Please review and let me know if you like it!

* * *

Chapter 1: The Suggestion

-The Burrow-

Sunday, July 8

Cheers erupt as George sweeps Angelina into a dip and kisses her deeply. Laughing, Fred raises his glass to the pair and bellows above the carousing crowd, "Congratulations to the most love sick pair of kids I have ever had the displeasure to know! You make me absolutely sick." And with a devilish grin, he drains his mug of butterbeer in one go. Taking a step back, Fred accidentally knocks into someone. "My bad, Granger, my bad."

"Oh, no, I think it was my fault. I snuck up behind you." Hermione replies as she moves to grab a butterbeer.

Fred grins down at her. "Why, Granger, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to wriggle your way into my arms."

"You only wish," She calls back over her shoulder as she makes her way back to the sitting room.

Fred laughs as he calls after her, "Oh, don't I!"

Hermione lowers herself onto the couch beside Harry and tucks her legs underneath her. Fred comes along after a minute and plops himself down on the other side of her, knocking into her arm and nearly spilling her drink.

"My bad, Granger, my bad," He echoes from earlier.

"It's fine. I suspect that gigantic ego of yours makes it difficult to fit into tight spaces." Hermione snips as she steadies her mug.

Smirking, Fred leans forward and sweeps his gaze down her oversized jumper and leggings. "I could show you all kinds of little nooks I can fit into if you'd like, Granger. For example, I know this great little closet upstairs we could head up to. I'm sure no one would think to check there for us for at least a couple of hours. We could talk about my 'gigantic ego,' as you called it. And I'm sure we'd find some other interesting topics to discuss."

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Hmm, tempting. Unfortunately, I seriously doubt we'd both fit in a closet with the oversized balloon you call a head."

Fred screws his face up in feigned pain and lays a hand on his chest. "You wound me, Granger. Truly you do."

Hermione snorts and takes a sip of her foaming mug. "Somehow I doubt that. So what will you do now that George is engaged and Angelina is moving in? Won't it be a bit crowded with the three of you?"

Taking a gulp of his newly topped off glass of butterbeer, Fred shakes his head. "Great brother that I am, I've offered to move out so the lovebirds can be alone."

Ron shakes his head and swallows a mouthful of butterbeer. "I don't buy it. I'll bet a galleon George is kicking your sorry arse out on the street."

Ginny laughs and points a finger at Fred. "No way. _I _bet you just can't stand walking in on them doing it on the couch or kitchen table anymore." Ron and Ginny shake hands and look expectantly at Fred who laughs and shrugs.

"A bit of both actually. I've been looking for a flat ever since I walked in on them the first time, and George talked to me about finding a new place the night before he asked Angie to marry him. Trouble is, I can't find a decent flat anywhere 'round Diagon Alley, and muggle money confuses me, so muggle London is out. Can't very well pay rent to a muggle with galleons, now can I?" Standing, he laughs at his own joke and drains the last of his drink. "Ah, well. I'm up for another butterbeer. Ginny, Harry, Granger, could I get one for any of you?"

"I'd take on," Ron says, downing the last of his own drink.

"No takers? Suit yourselves then."

"Oi! I said I want one, you tosser!"

"Didn't ask you though, did I?" Fred smirks and swaggers off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Prat," Ron mutters and looks 'round at his friends. "No wonder no one will take him for a flatmate"

Harry looks thoughtfully at Hermione. "He could stay with you, 'Mione."

Eyes wide, Hermione chokes on her drink and Harry pounds on her back to ease her coughing. "Excuse me?" She manages to choke out.

Harry hesitates, hastily removing his hand from her and withers under her heated glare. "Well it's just-just that- I uh… I only thought that-"

"That could actually work." Ginny breaks in at that point and Harry shoots a grateful look at his girlfriend.

Hermione's glare melts into shock as she turns to the red headed girl. "What?"  
Ginny shrugs, "Think about it. You have that extra room you're using for storage. You need someone to make sure you eat every once in a while - oh, don't look at me like that, 'Mione. Eating a single biscuit whenever you remember to doesn't count. And takeout everyday can_not_ be good for you," Ginny pauses long enough to smirk and place a single finger against Hermione's mouth to stop her indignant protests. "Hush, grownups are talking. You've enough space not to trip all over each other. He'll be off at work most days, so you'll only see each other in the evenings." Ginny breaks into a broad grin after a moment, "And I'll bet Fred would even be willing to help out around the bookshop if it meant not having to live with two very loud newlyweds that seem to always forget that silencing spells exist." Ginny knew very well that Hermione is low on staffing at the bookshop cafe she owned and desperately needed help staying abreast of all the work that had to be done.

Hermione leans back and crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at the lot of them. Finally she looks to Ron and sighs, "What do you think?"

Ron looks taken aback and glances around first at his best mate then to his sister and finally back to his ex. His expression is absolutely bewildered as he points a finger at himself in question.

Hermione huffs out a breath and runs a hand through her hair, disheveling her carefully tamed curls. "Yes, _you_, Ron. Even though it didn't work out between us, I feel like it might be at least _slightly _awkward to have your brother living with me. _And _ you just said you'd pity the person that'd take him as a flatmate!"

Flushing slightly, Ron interrupts her with a shrug, "When a friend asks for help, you help them." Ron winces then adds, "Even if they are the world's biggest prat."

Ginny shakes her long mane of hair and breaks back into the conversation, "Nonsense, Ron. He's only a prat to _you_. He's not all that bad otherwise. He's cleaner than you for one thing. He does his own laundry, he's handy with healing and cleaning spells, _and_ he can cook."

"He's also the one that keeps track of inventory at WWW, so he'll probably be able to help you with keeping track of your horde of books at the shop." Harry chooses that moment to enter back into the conversation now that Ginny had done most of the damage control.

Knowing she was beaten, Hermione leans back and glares into her mug for a moment before sighing and looking up at her friends, "Alright, fine. But if you three try to coerce me into taking in another stray, you'll be in for a nasty surprise. And if this arrangement goes badly, I will _not_ hesitate to say 'I told you so.'"

As Hermione stands up Ron snickers, "Have you ever?"

"Oh har har, Ronald. _Very _funny." Hermione snaps and stalks off to find Fred.

She finds him tying a trip wire at the bottom of the stairs and stands behind him with her hands on her hips. "Oh, this will never work."

Fred stands up quickly in surprise, but visibly relaxes and grins when he sees Hermione. "Oh, just you, Granger. Have you finally come to your senses and decided to drag me up to the closet to have your wicked way with me then?"

Hermione throws her hands up in the air and glares, "Oh, never mind! I don't know why I let them talk me into this."

As she turns to stomp off, Fred grabs her arm and pulls her back. "Sorry! I'm sorry. What was it that you wanted to say?"

Hermione glares at him in suspicion and finally softens enough to answer hesitantly, "I have a two bedroom flat above my bookshop. I'm not using the second room, and thought - okay _Harry_ thought - that it would be alright if you stayed in the spare… Since you're in, well, _need_."

Fred smiles and laughs, "Need, indeed." He looks down at her, wiping all amusement off his face. "You'd offer this when all I did earlier was tease you?"

Hermione shrugs, "When a friend asks, you help them."

"I didn't exactly _ask_, Granger."

"Look, I can take it back if you want," Hermione huffs.

Fred puts up a hand. "No, no, no. I appreciate it. You're the best offer I've had in three months, so I'll take it. I have to admit, though, I never thought you'd be asking me to go home with you." Grinning he winks and wriggles his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Hermione smacks his arm lightly, "You're the limit. Don't make me regret being nice and offering you a place in my _home_."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, love. But the offer to take me to some hidey hole and snog me senseless is still on the table."

Hermione sighs and turns to head back to her friends, "Meet me at the The Voyage tomorrow and we can discuss the details."

Fred raises his eyebrows, "The Voyage? Already planning a lovers' getaway with me?"

Hermione rolls eyes, "Voyage of the Imagination is the name of my bookstore. Just stop talking and meet me tomorrow before I change my mind." With that she walks back to enjoy the rest of the party with her three best friends.

* * *

-Hermione's flat above The Voyage-

Later that night Hermione sits in her living room reading one of her favorite books when the fireplace in front of her erupts in emerald flames. She barely has time to wonder who would be calling at this hour when Fred stumbles through and coughs out a lungful of soot.

"Sorry, sorry. I know you said tomorrow, but George and Angie have been humping like dogs _all_ night, and after the fourth-"

"Fred!"

"Right. Sorry." He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, "I just couldn't stand listening anymore, so I thought about your offer and knew you'd still be up, so I thought I'd come by and try my luck."

Hermione looks puzzled as she gestures at a chair from him to sit and slips an old bit of parchment into her book. "How did you know I'd still be up?"

Fred shrugs as he sinks into the chair, stretching out his long legs before him. "You always sat up reading until at _least _midnight at Hogwarts and the Burrow. I can't count how many times I saw you passed out in the Common Room and had to slip a blanket over you to keep you from freezing. And you'd always have a book clutched in one hand." Fred laughs and shakes his head. Hermione, however, has a politely confused look on her face and seems to have zoned out looking at the floor. "...So how about it then? Granger?"

Hermione head snaps up and looks back at Fred, "What? How about what?"

"Is it alright if I stay tonight?"

Hermione stands and stretches. "Well I suppose, but you'll have to sleep on the couch. Your room is still full of boxes. I'll grab you a couple blankets and a pillow."

"Oh, you don't have to go through so much trouble, Granger. I can just sleep in your bed with you. That way you're not put out for the night and I can protect you from any potential boogeyman."

Hermione rolls her eyes and looks back at him. "Fred. Couch. Now."

Fred grins and stands up to remove his shoes, "Just thought I'd offer. Gentlemanly thing to do, you know."

Hermione lets out a small laugh and turns back to gather some blankets from the next room, "Gentlemanly, sure."

She returns with two blankets and a pillow after a minute of foraging in the spare room and brings them back to Fred. "Here. I'll be up at 9 to go down and unlock the doors. I'll try not to wake you."

"Don't worry, I'm a deep sleeper. Thank you, Granger. I really appreciate this."

"Hermione."

"No, I'm Fred."

"You might as well call me Hermione since we'll be living together."

"Ah, right. Thank you… Hermione."

Hermione takes a step back as he takes the blankets. "You're welcome. I'll be going to bed now."

Just as she reaches her bedroom door, she hears Fred say something and turns back to look at him. He's still standing where she left him as if rooted to the spot. "What?"

"Nothing. Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Fred." She closes her door softly behind her and gets ready for bed.


	2. Chapter 2: The Morning After

Author's Note: All rights to JKR, no matter how much she doesn't deserve it. Trans rights are human rights.

Like I said before, I've had this plot bunny for a long time. I thought that if I had created a Sims version of it, I would be happy, but... I wanted to micromanage it, so here we are. Review and let me know if you want to see the layout of the flat and bookshop. :)

I'm sorry this chapter is so short. I've hit major blockages in writing it. I have some really great (in my opinion) ideas for this fic, so it should be coming out a bit faster after the first couple of chapters.

Also! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and followed this story. I really, really appreciate it!

P.S. My page breaks aren't working for some reason, so I'm sort of switching over to a line of F.M. Thanks!

* * *

Chapter 2: The Morning After

-The Flat-

Monday, July 9

The first thing Hermione registers is that something smelled good... Really good.

She rubs the sleep out of her eyes before glancing down at the alarm clock on her bedside table. Her stomach drops. She was supposed to unlock the doors for her three opening employees in _five minutes_.

Suddenly shes's a whirlwind of motion. In one movement, she's out of bed, ripping off the ratty old t-shirt she used as pajamas and pulling on her slacks which are quickly followed by her maroon turtleneck. There's a moment of indecision as she glances at her unmade bed, but she shakes her head and attempts to coax her bedhead into a bun with one hand and slip her left shoe on with the other. She all but falls out of her bedroom door trying to get through it, and glances up at the kitchen, catching herself on the door frame.

And there's Fred, holding a spatula in one hand and wearing the floral apron her mother had made for her two years prior at the Empty Nester Beginner's Sewing Class (and had never been worn until this moment), while standing over her rarely used stove. The scene playing out in her kitchen was so unexpected, so bizarre, so _domestic_ that Hermione's mind freezes and she stops in her tracks, one hand clutching the other shoe she had been about to put on.

Not looking up from dipping the last piece of bread in his egg mixture, Fred greets her with a cheery - _too_ cheery,"Good morning, sunshine! I've prepared French-fried bread for your breakfast. Considering it was just about the only thing I _could _make with the complete _absence_ of anything else that could _remotely_ be called food in this kitchen I feel like it turned out pretty well. We're going to need to do some shopping later... Only _four_ things in your crisper - I don't know _how _you call this a proper kitch- Why are you looking at me like that?" Fred finally looks up from his stack of toast and notices that Hermione had not moved from the doorway.

"You... made breakfast?" Hermione's voice is tinged with hesitation and a fair amount of confusion as she absently runs a hand through her hair, ruining the already falling out bun.

Now it's Fred's turn to be confused. "Yes. Weren't you listening? French-fried bread. Er, why are you holding a shoe? You're not going to hit me with it, are you?"

It was as if Fred's question had brought her back to life. Hermione's brain jarred back to reality and she hastily slipped on the shoe in question. " I have to open the doors."

Fred puts hands on his hips in his best Mrs. Weasley imitation, which is pretty spot on with the added floral apron visual. "We need to have a serious conversation about the lack of food in this house. It's not health-Don't you go walking away from me, young lady!"

"We can talk later! I just have to go downstairs to unlock the doors!" Hermione whirls from her spot and dashes to the front door, pausing to change her shoes to the correct feet.

"You're a witch! Apparate down and _Alohamora_ the door." Fred slides the last piece of toasted bread off the pan onto a large plate where five other pieces had already been stacked.

"The doors are _glass_, Fred. I'm not about to break the International Statute of Secrecy to save myself the what, what _three_ extra minutes it takes to _walk_ downstairs!"

Hermione yanks open the door, and as she runs downstairs she could hear him half shout a weak, "This conversation is not over!"

F.H.F.H.F.H.F.M.F.M.F.M.

* * *

Once she comes back from letting her three openers in, Hermione lowers herself onto a bar stool. "You have five minutes to finish what you wanted to say."

Fred is supervising the dishes washing themselves in her sink while sitting on the counter and eating his plateful of French-fried bread. He sets his forkful back down on his plate and speaks in a high voice, "Thanks for a really stellar breakfast, Fred. I really appreciate you getting up early and making this for me. And thanks for washing the dishes. _I_ could have washed them since you made breakfast, but you still did them. Oh, how _thoughtful_!" And in his normal voice, though slightly lower, "No, Hermione, it was my pleasure. A good roommate is happy to help." He looks at her sternly.

"You just wasted two minutes," Hermione huffs and brings her hands up to fix her misshapen bun.

Fred sets his almost finished plate down next to him, hops off the counter, and walks across the kitchen to lean across the island counter she's sitting at. "Oh, no I didn't. You are going to sit there and be reprimanded about the complete _lack_ of food in this kitchen. What do you even _eat_? You don't have _any_ of the essentials! You should have meat and cheese and biscuits and fruit and, and, and _vegetables_! Merlin, woman, you don't even have vegetables!"

"Fred, _pleas_e! Can we talk about my lack of vegetables later? I'm usually downstairs working by now." Hermione moves to stand, but stops when she sees the look of absolute horror on his face.

"You don't even eat _breakfast _now? It's the most important meal of the day for Merlin's sake." Fred points at the heaping plate in front of her, "Sit. Eat. We still have to talk about our living arrangement."

Once he's seen to it that she's taken a few bites, Fred grabs his plate off the other counter and sets it down across from her. "I'm assuming there will be rules."

"I actually hadn't worked any out... I was planning on getting up early and drawing up a list, but you can see how well that worked out."

"What do you say we go shopping and make a list together?"

"That sounds... Sensible."

Fred lets out a booming laugh. "No one's ever accused me of being sensible before. I don't know if I should be offended or not."

Hermione wacks his arm, "That was a compliment."

"Merlin, Granger." Fred pouts and rubs his shoulder. "You'd make a good bludger."

Hermione rolls her eyes. "You're calling me Hermione now, remember."

Fred's mouth slides back into a grin. "Oh yeah. I remember how _intimate _and _familiar_ you'd like us to be now. I know you're in love with me and everything, but don't you think we skipped a step before moving in togeth- Ow!"

Hermione had slapped his arm again, harder this time. Fred grins again. It was definitely worth the wrist slaps if he got to see how she reacted to his teasing.


	3. Chapter 3: The War on Vegetables (2)

Author's Note: Hey, everyone!

Thank you to those that reviewed and alerted me to the problem (especially Hufflepuff Bookworm for pming me!). If I hadn't checked my email and read the reviews, I probably would have left the corrupted version until I was ready to write chapter four! Thank you!

I'm sorry this is so short! I wanted to write more before I posted this, but I've been busy ever since the holidays! My sister (who is a doctor that I rarely get to see) came up the week after Christmas, and all of my attention was focused squarely on her and her fiance.

THEN I had multiple holiday parties to attend for my family, friends, and my husband's family.

THEN I started my new job (as an editor! Something I've always wanted to do! WOO!) on the 6th of January - also my youngest sister's birthday. But! I haven't been able to train someone for my old job, so for the past couple of weeks, I've been working 4am-noon then going home and working on my new job. Doing both has been _exhausting_, so I'm super psyched that I finish training the new person Wednesday which means that Thursday is my last day at the old job! WOO!

THEN I started the new semester of Uni this past Monday and already have piles of homework.

AND I'm moving! My husband and I have been in the process of moving for the past week, but the move in day is this Friday... and then I have to unpack all of our crap...

IN CONCLUSION. I know that I won't have another opportunity to finish the chapter the way I wanted to for about another month. I wanted ya'll to have this itty bitty piece. I promise I have not forgotten you or this fic - it's just going to be a bit crazy for a while.

Thank you for your patience! I'm so thankful for your reviews, pms, and follows!

Please review and let me know what you think. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 3: The War on Vegetables (second upload)

-Grocery store-

Tuesday, July 10

"How about this box of biscuits? They look pretty good."

"What's the sugar content in them?"

Fred turns the box around in his hands, searching for the nutritional content. His eyes scan down to find the correct line and widen slightly when he finds the sugar content. He carefully schools his face and looks down at the woman in front of him. "Just enough to give it some sweetness."

Hermione glares up at Fred, trying to determine whether he was lying. She finally rocks back on her feet and turns away, pulling out her _very_ short grocery list. "Absolutely not."

"You've literally vetoed _everything_ I asked for. _Please_, Hermione."

"You're going to rot your teeth with those, Fred. I can't let them in the flat!"

"How about this, okay? What if _I_ buy them, and _you_ practice some of your inhuman Hermione Granger self-control, and just - just _not_ eat them. Let _me_ eat them."

"Fine. Fine! But when _you_ have a bad tooth, don't come crying to me. Because I will _not_ hesitate to say that _I told you so_!"

Fred runs a hand over his face and looks wearily at Hermione. "I didn't really think you would, Hermione." He shakes his head, takes hold of the trolley, and walks them into a neighboring aisle.

Hermione runs her hands over the shelved merchandise before selecting several containers of mixed nuts and dried fruit. She deposits them into the cart and wanders further down the aisle in search of her favorite tea.

Fred watches her for a moment before walking their trolley down to the tea section and joins in on her perusal. He selects an earl gray and reads the back of the box before picking up a second of the same and tosses them both in the cart.

He waits in silence before pointing to a shelf above Hermione's head. "Peppermint is up here."

Hermione's head snaps up from where she was crouched down, looking at the lower shelves. She stands slowly, looking at him in confusion. "How did you know I was looking for peppermint?"

Fred half shrugs, plucks a box from the upper shelf and offers it to her, not looking at her. "It's what you drank at school. He tilts his head to the side. "That and chamomile – when you couldn't sleep."

Hermione furrows her brow and takes the proffered box. "When…?"

She doesn't finish her question.

Fred rubs behind his neck before shrugging again. "I'm observant." He turns away and clears his throat. When he turns back to her, the moment has passed, and he grins wolfishly at her.

"Now let's get you some produce to strengthen your tiny body." He places one hand on her shoulder to turn her around and gently presses her forward toward the produce section.

Hermione scrunches her nose and looks over his shoulder at Fred. "I'm _not_ tiny. I'm only an inch below average."

"And I'm _several_ inches taller than average, which makes you absolutely _miniscule_ to me, little miss," Fred grins down at her and almost walks her straight into a shelf of lettuce heads.

"I really think we'll be fine with just a few apples. I don't eat all that much."

"And _that_, my dear, is _exactly_ your problem. You don't eat enough produce… or protein… or carbs… or, or - you just don't eat enough _period_. Ah, here we are."

They arrive at the produce section and Fred immediately loads Hermione's arms with apples. She's scowling at him and he just grins at her. "You did say apples, didn't you?" He moves to put some of her apples into a plastic bag, but she interrupts him.

"Fred Weasley, you drop that bag! Haven't you heard of global warming? What about Garbage Island? There is _no_ way _any_one living in my flat will be contributing to that monstrosity. We will be using the reusable bags _I _brought." Hermione juts her chin at the wad of bags in the trolley, and Fred, grinning, dutifully disentangles one and begins transferring the apples from her arms to the bag.

"So, what else did you want to get?" Fred looks around the surrounding vegetables before turning to look at her.

Hermione bites her lip in thought before answering. "I was thinking some bagels and cream cheese. We have everything else I needed."

Fred breaks in with a laugh, "Hermione, I meant what other _produce_ do you want?"

Hermione frowns at him. "I thought apples was enough _produce_." When Fred shakes his head, she sighs. "Fine... Pears. Apples and pears. Is that enough?"

Fred jovially shakes his head and bounces on his toes. "I'm afraid not, love. What vegetables or fruits do you like besides apples and pears?

With another sigh, Hermione pouts at him. "I don't really _like_ fruits and vegetables."

Fred tilts his head and furrows his brow. "How can you not like vegetables?"

"They're bitter and they all taste the same." Hermione shrugs, examining a beet.

Fred stares at Hermione like she'd just grown a second head, and sputters, "They all taste - they taste - _What do you mean they all taste the same_?" He waves his arms around them at the selection, "Carrots and pineapple and pomegranate and cucumber and, and, and _onion_? Merlin, Hermione, how can you even _say_ that?" Fred paces up and down between the tubs of produce before turning on the spot and pointing one long finger at Hermione, who drops the beet she was holding and takes a step back.

"Hermione Granger, I promise- no, I _vow_ that I, Fredrick Gideon Weasley, will teach you to like vegetables." Fred projects in a booming voice that echoes throughout the small grocery store and makes Hermione flush when all eyes turn to them.

Fred dashes about the produce section, picking out squash, kale, carrots, and other various produce.

Hermione grits through her teeth, "Fred Weasley, if you do not shut up and stop making a scene, I will _grab_ you by the bollocks and _force_ you to shut up." Fred quickly drops from his outlandish pose and covers himself. "Now, we will _quietly_ walk over to the check stand and check out _without_ causing another scene." Hermione stalks over the Fred, stuffs the vegetables in his arms into one of her bags, and whips the cart around.

Fred walks docilely behind her until they're halfway to the check stands when he turns on his heel and walks back into the aisle, muttering a quick, "I'll be right back."

Hermione halts her progress and stares at his retreating back before he disappears around a corner. She pushes the trolley out of the way and leans against it, staring at her hands and planning her revenge on Harry for suggesting this outlandish scheme and Ginny for convincing her that it would be a good idea.

Fred walks out with multiple items in his arms. He dumps them into their cart before turning and grinning at Hermione, "Sorry, love. I know how much you wanted to _grab_ me and _make_ me behave, but –" He dances out of reach when she moves to smack him again and laughs – "I need you to wait until we get home. I picked up your bagels and cream cheese along with a few things other items I wanted to use for dinner tomorrow."

"Dinner tomorrow?" Hermione tilts her head and stares at him, not liking how often he made her confused with his surprise announcements.

"Well, it _would_ be tonight, but I have to go into the shop at three to close up. You'll have to survive without my pleasant company for the evening." Fred grins at her and nudges both her and the cart toward a checkout lane. "Shall we had out? I'd like to get this-" he juts his chin at the cartload of groceries- "all put away and rules hashed out before I leave for tonight."

Hermione tears her eyes away from him and woodenly begins to move their items onto the conveyor belt. She had a feeling this man's behavior would often be the source of her surprise and confusion in the future.

And Hermione _hated_ both surprise and confusion.

* * *

P.S. If ya'll want to head to my wattpad (shipaycon) which has a "chapter" that's basically just pictures of the flat and bookshop. I'm hoping it will help you guys picture the fic angles are terrible, so let me know if you want me to do a rehaul and take better screenshots. lol

\- search shipaycon and select my profile - select The Living Arrangement - select the third "chapter" titled Quick Interlude - look at the pictures!


	4. Chapter 4: Rules

All rights go to JKR even if she sucks. Trans rights are human rights.

Author's note: Hey, everyone! Thank you for being patient! Things have been crazy these past couple of weeks with work, school, family, and travelling. I was on a car trip when I wrote 90% of this chapter. It was nice to have that time to dedicate to writing!

I so so appreciate when ya'll follow, favorite, and review. In fact, this chapter is dedicated to MichelleNicole326 for urging me to write more with a simple "More please!" Thanks for kicking my butt in gear and making me write this!

* * *

Chapter 4: Rules

-The Flat-

Fred picks up the pen and presses it to the paper Hermione had dropped into his hands ("Pens are much more practical than quill and ink. Honestly, I don't know why Hogwarts hasn't upgraded."). "Right. First rule: Common areas (living room, kitchen, bathroom, parlor, laundry room) are to remain clean. Pick up your own items." Fred begins writing, but presses too hard with his new utensil and pokes a hole in the paper.

Hermione simply rolls her eyes and demonstrates the correct pressure. "Obviously."

Fred finishes writing and slowly raises his head to look up at her. He stares at her for a moment before sweeping a hand toward the living room and hall where every available surface had been covered in stacks of books. "Is it, though?"

Hermione glares at him. "Where else am I going to put the ones I'm reading?"

"You can't possibly be reading _all_ of them at once. I get maybe two or even three, but _thirty_? And _more_?" He shakes his head and folds his arms across his chest. "That's a stretch, Hermione."

Hermione sighs in irritation before responding, "Alright, fine. I'll put them away. But if I can't have my books out, you can't leave your gizmos and whatnot laying around."

Fred nods. "Only fair." He makes another note and looks back up at her. "What's next?"

Hermione looks down at the counter, biting her lip in thought. She nods to herself then looks up at Fred. "Clothes must be worn at _all_ times. Don't look so surprised, Fred. Angelina told me about your Naked Tuesdays with George. I will _not_ have naked men running around my house."

"Naked Tuesdays are an institution! You can't just _outlaw_ them!"

"Fred-"

"What about self expression? Or, or self confidence? Being comfortable with your body builds confidence!"

"If you have problems with your body, you can work on that by _yourself_. I don't need -or want- to watch your transformation from a naked mole rat into a beautiful butterfly."

"Naked mole rat? I'll show you-"

"Fred!"

He snaps his mouth shut and leans toward her slightly. He lowers his voice into a more innocent sounding cadence. "But you'll miss your chance to ogle me."

Hermione rolls her eyes and looks at his appearance - the same clothes from the previous day, slightly mussed hair, and a dark smudge just to the right of his mouth. "I can see you just fine now. I don't need Naked Tuesday to look at you." She leans forward and wipes away the smudge and leans back to look at him.

He stares at her for a moment. "I-" he clears his throat and takes a deep breath before looking back at her. "Right. No Naked Tuesdays."

Hermione smiles. "I knew you'd come around."

Fred grunts and writes their second rule, "What else?"

"Laundry. Laundry needs to be done in a timely manner. I don't want to be stuck waiting for you to switch the drier for two days and I'm sure you wouldn't like that either."

Nodding, he makes another note. "Right. Makes sense. And?"

Hermione bites her lip again but doesn't have a chance to answer before Fred speaks up again.

"Oh! I know. Friends. Even though we run in a lot of the same circles and know most of each other's friends, it would probably be nice to know when people are over."

She nods and lets out a sigh. "I would also like to know when you're planning on bringing home a date." When he raises his eyebrows in surprise she explains, "I'm not naive. I remember your reputation as a ladies' man at Hogwarts, and I'm sure you've carried on, but in a more, ah, _adult _capacity."

Fred shoves a fist and his mouth and his eyes start to water from the effort of holding back his laughter. He finally schools himself and barely manages a choked, "And you, Granger? Have you… 'carried on in an adult capacity?'"

She stares him down for a moment.

"Okay. Don't talk about Granger's dating life. Got it."

"_Moving on_. I have another rule." She makes sure he's listening before continuing. "No pranks."

He furrows his brows and is suddenly all business. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said. No pranks on the premises."

"Granger, my _job_ is to do pranks. That is my _profession_. I could lose my creative process and the entirety of WWW would _fail _if I didn't prank! Do you _want _my business to fail?

Hermione chews on her lower lip and she looks anxious. "It's not that I want that to happen or even that I hate pranks. I don't hate pranks. I think some of your past ones have been hilarious and very much needed. Like the time-"

Fred leans forward and covers her mouth with his hand. "As much as I love to hear you compliment me, I _think_ you had a point somewhere in your rambling. Get to it." He removes his hand and quirks an eyebrow up at her.

She takes a breath. "I hate surprises. And I _hate_ being the victim of a prank."

Fred runs a hand through his hair, mussing it even further. "Then how about I promise not to prank you."

Hermione doesn't look quite convinced and merely frowns at him. He continues.

"Okay… and I stop all pranks directed at you that I hear about or know of."

She furrows her eyebrows.

"And no pranking your employees or customers."

She begins chewing her lip again.

"And I tell you about all pranks before they happen no matter who they're directed at."

She finally, _finally_ smiles and he knows he's just won - sort of. At least he can prank their guests.

Hermione slides off the bar stool. "Well if that's settled, I need to head downstairs and help my employees." She pauses and looks at him. "Unless you need help moving in."

He holds up his hand in surrender. "No, no. You go ahead. I'll have George help me. He should be on his lunch break soon."

"Perfect. Well, -" She turns slightly away from him. "Let me know if you need anything I guess. I'll be down in my office." She turns completely from him and takes a couple of steps away before turning back on her heel to look at him. "Do you know where my office is? Or where your room is?"

He shakes his head. "I've never been here before last night, remember?"

Hermione sighs and looks at her wristwatch before waving him toward her. "I can put some things off for another half hour. Follow me and I'll give you the tour."

She takes him to the door directly across from the kitchen, opens it, and runs a hand down her face. "This is your room, but I'll need to clean it out first. I've been using it for storage."

She leaves the door open and opens the door a couple feet down the hall to the right. "My bedroom." She opens the door and allows him to look in on her neat (except for the bed that she still had not made) purple bedroom before closing it again.

She walks him around the rest of the flat - the parlor, bathroom, laundry room, and bar area - before bringing him out the door through which she had disappeared to open the shop earlier that morning and down the stairs. She waits for him to descend the spiraling staircase before opening the door into the shop.

Fred quickly realizes their "front door" is cleverly hidden in a bookcase against the wall. He turns to look at Hermione and sees that she's grinning at him.

"I've wanted to have my own secret door since I read about them when I was little."

Fred laughs and slings an arm around her after closing the door behind them. "You still are little, Hermione."

She grins, rolls her eyes, and opens her mouth to make a remark but is interrupted by a voice from behind them.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione quickly shrugs off Fred's arm and turns around. "Ah, Mr. Austen. I didn't see you come around the corner." She smiles politely at the newcomer.

Mr. Austen smiles widely before offering his hand to Fred. "I don't believe we've met."

Fred takes the hand and almost has his hand crushed before quickly dropping the other man's hand. "Fred Weasley."

"James Austen. My mother would have named me Jane had I been born a girl. She loved her books, my mother. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree I guess." Mr. Austen laughs and looks back to Fred. "So how do you know my Miss Granger?" He looks down at Hermione. "A new suitor hasn't beaten me to your heart, I hope?"

Fred answers for her. "Just her flatmate."

Mr. Austen quirks an eyebrow at the two of them, making him look a bit more sinister than his easy going demeanor originally made him seem. "I see. How did you two meet?"

"We attended the same private school. Hermione here was in the same graduating class as my younger brother."

Mr. Austen nods politely. "And what is it that you do?"

Hermione smiles at Fred. "Fred started a really wonderful joke shop with his twin brother."

Mr. Austen barely conceals a sneer in his smile to Fred. "A joke shop, you say? How is business in your _joke_ shop?"

Fred smirks back at Mr. Austen. "Booming, thank you. If you don't mind, Hermione and I are a tad busy moving me into her flat. Excuse us."

"Oh, of course. Hermione, I will see you this weekend for the banquet. And please let me know when this flatmate position opens up. I know how you appreciate _intelligent_ conversation. Mr. Weasley." He kisses Hermione's hand, nods to Fred, and continues down the book aisle.

Fred frowns down the hall at Mr. Austen's retreating back. "I'm not a fan of him, Granger."

She sighs and looks back in Mr. Austen's direction. "I'm not either if I'm honest. But he donates a serious amount to The Voyage. He also helped me get the sanction to expand the bookstore into a cafe. He's a powerful man, and I really am thankful for everything he's done for me and The Voyage. So I accompany him to the banquets and other little dates he asks me to attend." She shrugs and looks at Fred with a small smile. "Shall we?"

He shoves his hands in his pockets, lifts his shoulders, and grins. "After you."

* * *

Following the tour of the bookshop, Hermione's office ("How are there this many books crowded in here? Merlin, woman, leave some books for the customers!"), and the cafe, Hermione walks the two of them back upstairs.

"This place is really impressive, Granger. I thought you wanted to go into politics though. Why did you start a bookshop?" Fred praises her as they finish the climb and enter through their front door and walk back into the kitchen.

Hermione smiles and picks up a pear. "I've always wanted a bookstore. I worked two years at the Ministry right out of Hogwarts, but I quickly burned out when I realized the miles of red-tape would make anything I wanted to do move at a snail's pace. So I quit, much to Kingsley's dismay, and started this place. I still do a bit of consulting though." She shrugs. "It's a quiet life, but after the War and the spotlight that being a member of the 'Golden Trio' brings, I'm grateful for some quiet."

Fred stares at her in amazement. "I honestly think you could do anything in the world, Granger."

She rolls her eyes and turns away from him. "Hermione. You're calling me Hermione now."

Fred walks around and bends down until he's at her eye level. "I honestly think you could do anything in the world, _Hermione_. I really do." He straightens but continues looking at her with a crooked grin.

"Um… thank you, Fred." She blushes and takes a step away from him. "If you want to go back to your flat and pack, I'll get started here and clean out your room." She gives him a quick smile and disappears behind his bedroom door.

Fred laughs to himself, shakes his head, and makes his way to the fireplace. It was time to coerce George into helping him move.


	5. Chapter 5: Pajamas and Bikinis

Rights to JKR. Trans rights are human rights.

Hey, everyone! _So_ sorry it's taken me so long to upload. I've been caught up in a couple big projects at work that have required much of my time. Hopefully this _decently_ long chapter will make up for it.

How is everyone doing? I hope you're able to cope with quarantine and that you and your loved ones are all safe. My family and I are all doing well. If any of you need to rant or blow off some steam, don't be afraid to PM me. Really. I'd love to hear from you.

Enjoy the reading! Review and let me know if you liked it. :)

* * *

Chapter 5: Pajamas and Bikinis

-The Flat-

Wednesday, July 11

_Whir whir whir rattle whir whir whir rattle whir whir whir rattle whir whir whir rattle whir..._

It's 2 am, Hermione's prime deep sleep time, but Fred is in the next room making _something_ on his sculpting wheel and causing a bloody _racket_. It had been fine at first and had even lulled her to sleep with the soft _whir whir whir_, but somewhere around 1:30 an annoying little _rattle_ had been thrown into the mix.

And it was driving Hermione _crazy_.

After another half hour of tossing and turning from that _infernal noise_, Hermione just can_not _stand it anymore. She whips the blanket off of her, clambers off her bed and marches to his bedroom door where she raps ferociously until Fred calls her in.

She leans against the door frame, shielding her eyes from the blinding light in his room. "_Fred_, if you can't at least cast a _silencio _spell on your room when you're making that infernal _racket_, I'm going to _hex_ you."

Fred glances back at her and immediately turns back to his sculpture. "Okay."

Hermione glares at the back of his _stupid _head. "You know I'm a fantastic marksman, right?" He just wasn't getting how _annoyed_ she was with him and his _stupid_ wheel for keeping her up. And he was ignoring her!

"I know." He doesn't turn around.

"And would you believe that I can turn a person into a _slug_?" She crosses her arms in annoyance as he _continues_ to ignore her.

"I'd believe it."

He still doesn't turn around. He just keeps on moving his hands over the clay on his wheel.

Hermione had had enough. Her fists jump to her hips as she marches further into his room, not stopping until she's right behind him. "Didn't Molly teach you that it's polite to _look_ at people when they're _talking_ to you?"

He stops his wheel and turns around to look her in the eyes. "Didn't _your_ mother tell you it's improper to walk into a bloke's room without any trousers on?"

Fred turns back to his sculpting wheel and mumbles over his shoulder, "Pajama bottoms in the top drawer on your right. You can wear those while you scold me." There's just a _hint_ of amusement in his voice when he hears Hermione yelp in surprise and embarrassment.

She yanks his drawer open and pulls out a pair of flannel bottoms. "Just... Just be quiet, alright? I'm trying to sleep," She manages to stammer while pulling them on.

Fred swivels in his chair back to face her, barely managing to keep a grin off his face. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Hermione's slowly backing up toward the door at this point, face beet red. "Cast a _silencio_, okay? I'm... I'm tired." She trips over the hem of the too-long pajamas on her way out, falling onto Fred's bed.

Fred lets out a surprised laugh and rises from his chair, taking a few steps closer to her. "Sorry - sorry. You need help?"

Hermione holds out a hand in a stop gesture, "No! No, just stay... stay there." She scrambles off the bed and out the door. "Good - Goodnight."

Before he can open his mouth, Hermione is gone, the door to her bedroom slammed shut, and Fred is left looking at an empty doorway.

He lets out an amused laugh, shakes his head, and returns to his sculpting wheel. Before he starts up again, he pauses and flicks his wand at the walls, muttering a quick silencing spell.

Fred chuckles to himself and shakes his head then runs his hands over his sculpture. Back to work.

* * *

-The following morning-

Wednesday, July 11

Hermione wakes up to several voices emanating from her kitchen. As it was her _only_ day to sleep in, she grumbles, turns over, and covers her head with a pillow, hoping to drown out the sound of laughter... But much like Fred's _annoying_ sculpting wheel, the sounds persist and keep her from the glorious oblivion of blissful slumber.

So for the _second_ time that morning, she slips out of her bed. Sighing, she opens her bedroom door, pausing to double check that she was wearing pants.

An all too familiar voice calls out to her through a mouthful of food, "'Orning, 'Meenie!"

"Chew your food, Ron," Hermione sighs and shuffles into the kitchen. She nods at her other best friend before dropping onto a bar stool, "Morning, Harry."

Harry smiles teasingly at her, "It's 10 am, Hermoine. What are you doing still in bed?"

"I had some trouble sleeping last night," she mumbles, head resting on her arms over the counter. "Did you two just come over to eat my food?"

Ron takes a couple stabs at his food, "Nah, Fred made these for us."

"Fred? He's awa-"

"Yes, Fred is awake. Don't act so surprised." Fred closes the bedroom door behind him and leans against it, raising his eyebrows, "Nice pajama bottoms, Granger."

"It's _Hermione_... and ... thank you."

"Are those Fred's paj-"

Hermione cuts off Ron before he can finish, "No, no, no. These are _definitely_ mine."

"Yours, huh?" Fred grins and walks across the kitchen to hand her a plate of pancakes, "You sure about that?"

Hermione glares and takes the plate from him. "They're _mine_. I've had them for ages."

"Look a little big on you, don't you think?"

"They're the _perfect_ length, thank you," Hermione sniffs. Unfortunately, she steps on the hem while walking toward the table and almost topples.

Harry shoots out a hand to steady her, "You alright there, 'Mione?"

She manages to gracefully lower herself onto a chair and set her plate down on the table, "Yeah, Harry, thanks."

"Yeah, I can see you're _definitely_ used to the length," Fred chuckles as he swished his wand at the dishes in the sink, making the sponge jump up and soap itself before lathering the dishes.

Ron swallows thickly, "You're going to have to get a move on things if we're going to meet the others on time."

Hermione whips her head around to gape at the two boys. "On time for what?"

Ron shovels food in his mouth to keep from talking and Harry shrugs, "It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises."

Harry huffs and runs a hand through his hair "I know, _but_ you need some time off. Ginny organized the whole day, and we think it'll be really fun."

Hermione stands and rolls her eyes. "You said Ginny planned everything, right? And you two did nothing to help?"

"Right."

"And this is going to be fun?"

"Way fun."

* * *

"This does _not_ look fun."

After apparating to a small alley, Hermione scowls as she surveys her surroundings with the rest of the group. She immediately feels the blazing sun on her skin and subconsciously winces at the lines of people waiting to get into the waterpark.

"What do you mean 'this doesn't look fun'?!" Harry's grin widens as he takes in the waterslides twisting through the air.

"It's hot as bollocks out here and you think its fun to stand in line for forty five minute periods on the burning concrete?"

Ron nudges her lightly with his shoulder. "Oh, loosen up 'Mione. You're going to have a blast. Come on, in we go." He gently pushes her forward to get in line with them.

"I don't even have a swimsuit!" Hermione complains and rolls her eyes, arms crossing over her chest but allowing herself to be moved forward.

"Ginny thought of that. She's waiting inside for us." Fred smiles, knowing she has no further arguments to use against them.

After waiting in line for a sweltering fifteen minutes in the sun, Hermione sees Ginny waiting by the bathroom with a bag in her hands. The ginger is visibly excited and smiling.

"Here! It was really difficult to decide which one to get for you, but I think this is the one! Hope you like it; go change!"

Hermione comes out of the changing room with her arms crossed, trying to cover herself. She stands behind Ginny and hisses, "This is _not_ a bathing suit! It's just a couple of strips of cloth tied together!"

Ginny laughs and pulls Hermione around to look at her. "Hermione, you look _amazing_! You've got the total body to pull it off."

"You've got some gorgeous legs, Hermione," Angelina chimes in, "If I wasn't engaged to George, _I'd_ be hitting on you."

"Thanks." Hermione smiles gratefully but is still trying to hide behind Ginny, who sighs.

"If you really don't like it, why not transfigure it into something you like better?"

"Here." Fred pulls his shirt off and offers it to Hermione. "Wear this over it."

Hermione looks gratefully at Fred and mouths _thank you_ as she shrugs it on. Ron laughs when the shirt hits the top of her thighs. "Nice, 'Mione. You look like you're drowning and we haven't even hit the water yet."

Ginny turns to Hermione and with quick hands she gathers up the bottom of the shirt and twists it into a knot, shortening the shirt to right above her hips. She smiles at Hermione. "Feel better?"

"Much. Thank you."

"Right. Let's go do some swimming!"

* * *

After going down several crazy slides with various members of their group and being kneed in the stomach by Ron, Hermione decides to finish their morning of swimming by floating on a tube in the lazy river. She's on her second way around when someone jumps on top of her tube and knocks the wind out of her.

"Fred-What, what are you doing?" She manages to gasp.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm relaxing with a friend, a _flatmate_ even." He gives her a crooked grin. When she gives no reaction, he continues, "A flatmate that _loves_ me."

She rolls her eyes and tries to shove him off of her. "Get _off_, Fred. We're going to sink with the three of us on one tube!"

"_Three_ of us? You're not talking about my-"

"Ego! Your _ego_ is the third person." Hermione looks slightly panicked.

Smirking, Fred slides off her but keeps a hold of her tube. "Still thinking about my great accomplishments I see. I understand your doubt I could stay humble what with my fame and glory-"

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Oh, please."

He slowly spins her tube in circles as they continue down the lazy river. "I can't _believe_ how _lucky_ I am to live with a flatmate that thinks about my _many_ accomplishments and simply _adores_ my company. A flatmate that loves me _so _much she wears my clothes every opportunity she gets." He gently tugs at the sleeve of the shirt she's wearing.

Hermione flicks the hand toying with her shirt sleeve. "You won't have a _flat_ if you keep going with _this _train of thought." She straightens her shirt and quirks an eyebrow at him. "And besides... You gave me both the pajama bottoms and shirt. _Maybe_ I won't give them back."

Fred laughs and grabs her hand from her lap and brings it to his lips. "Of course, what I _meant_ to say was how grateful I am you took me in, _darling_ Hermione."

Smiling broadly, he pulls her through the water, lacing their fingers together. "Oh, generous and ungrudging, Hermione, queen that you are, can you forgive my moment of ingratitude and forgetfulness?"

Hermione laughs and tries to tug her hand back. That only makes Fred hold it tighter and plant a few sloppy kisses on their entwined hands.

She attempts to stop laughing and make a serious face, but when Fred gives her his big doe eyes, she laughs even harder. From between wheezes she manages, "Fred - really - I - _please_!"

Fred grins as he slowly gets closer to her, "'Please, Fred' what, Hermio-?"

"Hermione! Fred! We're leaving! It's lunchtime!" Ginny interrupts their fun and waves them toward her from the sidewalk. "Let's go! I'm starving!"

In her moment of distraction, Fred lifts the bottom of her tube out of the water, successfully flipping Hermione into the water. Unfortunately for him, however, he's to busy laughing to notice a dripping Hermione jump at him and push _him_ into the water. She manages to get a couple feet in front of him before he recovers. "Oi! Granger!"

Ignoring him, Hermione laughs as she reaches Ginny. "Ready?" She asks with a grin.

Ginny gives her a confused grin. "Ready... Did I just see you holding hands with my brother?"

"No, well _yes_, but no. He was just playing around."

"Uh huh."

"Really! Honestly, Ginny. Fred and _me_?" Hermione laughs and shakes her head. "There's no way."

Ginny hums in disagreement. "Stranger things have happened, 'Mione." She shrugs. "I think you'd be cute."

Before Hermione can make a retort, Fred comes up behind them and slings an arm around her shoulders. "So can I get my shirt back or did you want me to be shirtless at the restaurant too?"

Hermione removes Fred's arm from her shoulders and gives him a slight push away from her. "I'll give it back after I get dressed, now go _away_, Fred."

Fred blows the two girls a couple of kisses before laughing and walking off toward the men's locker room.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." Ginny shakes her head, barely containing a smile.

"Good."

"But if I _did_ say something-"

Hermione lightly shoves her friend in mock annoyance and walks into the locker room.

Ginny's laughter echoes as they get dressed for lunch.


	6. Chapter 6: Adjusting to Domesticity

AN: Rights to JKR. Trans rights are human rights. Black lives matter. Stay safe, stay alive.

This chapter is for emyschoice. Great job spotting the obvious plot hole with Hermione. She would _never_ allow herself to be bought. Clever you! :)

Let me know what y'all think will happen in the future chapters or if you have something you would like to see. I want to hear from you!

* * *

Chapter 6.

-Adjusting to Domesticity-

Thursday afternoon, the flat

July 12

At 2:00 pm Hermione wearily walks into her kitchen from the front door. There had been a new shipment of books that morning that she had to get catalogued before they were ready for shelving. She had only _just_ finished and was absolutely famished. She pulls out a box of takeout curry and sets it on the counter, but before she can dig in, she hears a loud thump and a stream of curses emanating from Fred's bedroom.

Curious, she sets down her curry and drifts over to the door. Knocking gently, she pushes the door open. "Fred?"

He's at the other end of his bedroom sitting at his work table and scowling at something in his hands. "Yeah."

"Everything alright in here?"

Still scowling, he drops whatever he was holding and shoves it away from him, "Just peachy, Hermione." He rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighs, his shoulders curving down.

Hermione leans against the doorway and cocks her head to the side. "I thought you were working today. Why aren't you at the shop?"

"George and I have enough employees to mind the shop while we work on projects."

"And that's what you're doing? Working on a project?"

Fred removes his hand from his face and waves at the objects in front of him.

Hermione cautiously walks in, conscious of what had happened the last time she was in his bedroom. Peering over his shoulder, she can see there are multiple dolls of different makes and sizes littering his desk. "What are you doing with a bunch of dolls?"

"Harry had us over to watch that one horror film with the dolls. I've been trying to charm _these_ to move when someone's back is turned. I've tried everything I can think of, but nothing is working."

"Hm… and you've tried the _motus sensus_ charm?" When Fred gives her an annoyed look, she raises her hands in surrender. "Sorry. I know you're far from daft. I won't meddle."

Fred sighs and shakes his head, "Honestly, I might need you to meddle. I've been working on these for so long, I see their creepy smiles when I close my eyes. It's enough to drive a man to drink."

Hermione breathes a small laugh and smiles before looking around the room and frowning. "I don't mean to be rude, Fred, but is there a _smell_ in here?"

He juts his chin at his overflowing laundry basket in the corner. "Yeah, I need to do some laundry. I was going to take it back to the shop and do it there, but I got caught up in this _pile of garbage_."

"Fred, we _have_ a laundry machine."

"Yeah, but I don't know how to _use _it."

Hermione rolls her eyes and pulls him up from his stool by tugging on his arm. "Come on, garbage boy. Let's do your laundry."

Ten minutes later, Hermione has successfully given Fred the rundown on using the muggle machines.

"So, that's about it," She shrugs. "You try." She nudges Fred's laundry basket closer to him with her foot.

"Okay, so… Separate the colors, right?" Fred begins shoving his dark robes into the washing machine.

Hermione hops up onto the drying machine to watch his progress and gives him a small smile. "You're doing great."

Fred glances up at her and rolls his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Thanks ever so."

Hermione's smile widens as she lets out a small laugh, "Sorry, I don't mean to sound condescending."

Fred straightens and gives her a one shoulder shrug, grinning. He reaches for the bleach but before he can pour it in, Hermione grabs his wrist.

"No, no no. That's bleach! If you use that with your dark robes, you'll _ruin_ them!"

"I thought this one was the detergent."

Hermione pushes the correct container toward him. "_This_ one."

Fred takes it and pours it into the machine with his clothes along with the fabric softener. He closes the lid and presses the start button. Frowning, he watches the machine shudder to life. "Now what?"

"Now you wait until it's done. Then you switch it over to the dryer." She pats the machine she's perched on.

"This sounds like a long, complicated process."

"Not really. It takes maybe two minutes to set it up, and the machine does all the work. When it's done drying, I usually dump it on my bed and fold it manually, but I know there's a household charm to do the job. If you don't already know it, I'm sure your mother would."

"Hermione Granger not knowing a spell? Bless my stars."

"I don't know _everything_, Fred. I only research relevant magic."

"And household charms aren't _relevant_?"

She shrugs, "Why use a spell when I have two perfectly good arms?"

"Why use your arms when you have a perfectly good wand?" Fred fires back.

"I think hard work teaches you good principles and gets good results. I'm sure you know all about good results from all that effort you've put into the shop." Hermione hops off the dryer, "Now, if you don't mind, there's some curry with my name on it in the kitchen."

* * *

Friday evening, the flat

July 13

The next afternoon, Hermione enters the front door of their flat after a long day of meeting with book vendors. She makes the short walk to the living area and faceplants onto the couch, letting out a long moan.

"Keep that up and I might have to have a chat with the couch about the birds and the bees," Fred calls from the kitchen.

"Everything hurts and I'm _exhausted_."

"So you're going to make the couch do all the work then? What about reciprocity?"

"Oh, shut your face. Fancy takeout tonight? I don't feel like making anything. Too much work."

"Well lucky for you then, as I've already made dinner. It should be ready in a few minutes."

Hermione pops her head off the couch, "What?"

Fred rolls his eyes and walks around the kitchen counter to look at her in the living room, "I told you yesterday I was going to make dinner for tonight."

"I guess it slipped my mind." She sits up and stares at him.

"Well, it's almost ready, so I hope you're in the mood for squash."

"_Squash_?" Hermione makes a face.

Fred leads her back into the kitchen and hands her a plate. "_Yes_, squash. I told you I was going to make you like vegetables, didn't I? I am a man of my word after all." He flicks his wand and the oven door opens, the squash dish floats out and onto a hot pad on the counter.

"Do I have to?" Hermione whines and Fred lightly slaps her arm with a wooden spoon.

"_Stop whining_ and eat the food you're given."

Hermione grabs another wooden spoon and slaps his arm with it, "Fine, _mum_."

"Oh, shut up and eat, Hermione."

After dinner, Fred calls from the kitchen table, "Today's friday, right?"

Hermione hums in response from the couch in the living room.

"And… it's the 13th?"

Hermione slowly looks up from her book, "Yes… It's Friday the 13th. Why?"

"Harry sent over a film he wanted me to see. I was thinking about watching it. D'you want to join?"

"You made dinner and now you want to watch a film with me? What is this? A date?"

Fred laughs at the wild look in her eyes, "No, not a date, sorry to disappoint. I know you've been harboring a secret crush on me for years. This is just some roomie bonding time."

"Okay… If that's all. But remember the rules; _no _pranking me." Hermione glares ferociously, and he laughs again.

"I remember. I _just_ want to watch the film. No schemes, plots, or pranks. I solemnly swear." He raises his hands in mock surrender.

Hermione sets aside her book and tosses him the remote. "Good. Now, don't you _dare_ forget."

At the beginning of the movie, Fred sits at one end of the couch with Hermione on the other side and her feet in his lap.

When the first death, Fred grabs Hermione's ankles and drags her closer to him, kicking and screaming. "Fred! You scared me more than the movie did!"

Eyes still on the screen, Fred pulls her into a sitting position next to him and clings to her arm. "Sorry, sorry. Just making sure you're not scared and everything."

"It's okay to be scared, Fred. That's what horror movies are all about. You're _supposed_ to be afraid," Hermione laughs and gently tries to escape his desperate grip.

At a jumpscare halfway through the movie, Fred lets out a strangled yelp and jumps onto her lap. "You don't mind, do you? " He laughs nervously as he clutches her hand.

They finish the movie and Fred slowly climbs off her lap. "Muggles are _messed up_ for coming up with that. What happened to happy endings?"

Hermione shakes her head, "Lots of muggles like to be scared. Maybe this Halloween Harry and I will take you to a haunted house. Of course there aren't _real_ ghosts like at Hogwarts, but people dress up and scare you. It's pretty fun actually."

Fred shakes his head, "Muggles are nuts."

* * *

Saturday evening, the flat

July 14

"How do I look?" Hermione spins in front of where Fred is seated at the kitchen table reading his notes on the doll project.

He looks up and lets out a low whistle, "You look _smashing_. The dress reminds me of the one you wore to Bill's wedding."

"I _am_ a fan of the lavender color. And the cut is pretty too. Feminine yet sophisticated." Hermione spins again and smiles at him.

Fred grins wolfishly, "Not to mention your figure in that dress. Why do you hide that away from me?"

Hermione pinches him on the arm but smiles nonetheless.

"Where are you going anyway?"

"A charity dinner with Mr. Austen. You remember him."

Fred makes a face, "The bloke from downstairs. I remember. Why are you going with a git like him?"

Hermione hesitates before picking up her clutch purse, "He frequently donates to The Voyage, and I'm thankful for his help."

Fred folds his arms across his chest, "I can't believe that you would accompany someone you don't like just because you're grateful. He's clearly trying to _buy_ you with donations! The Hermione I know would be clever enough to see that."

Hermione shrugs and tries to keep a smile off of her face and turns to go.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing."

Fred lightly grabs hold of her forearm and stands to walk in front of her. "Hermione, _what_?"

She gives him a small smile, "You have to promise not to think too badly of me."

Fred furrows his brow and nods.

"I'm not going because I'm grateful."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said. I didn't want you to think poorly of me." She laughs and tosses her curled hair over her shoulder. "Every time I go to one of his charity events, he introduces me to interesting and important people. I've already made a couple of friends and have made deals with several others."

"You're… you're _using_ _him_?" Fred looks completely gobsmacked.

Hermione fake pouts before grinning, "That word has such unfortunate connotations. I prefer _friendly networking_."

Fred laughs and grins down at her. "I didn't know you had it in you!"

She laughs and curtsies. "Now, would you mind moving away from the door? I don't want to be late to the party."

Smirking, he bows and opens the door for her. "Good luck with your _friendly networking_!"

"I intend to!"

Chuckling, Fred closes the door behind her and heads over to the kitchen looking for an evening snack.

* * *

AN: Also, so sorry for taking so long on updating. I finished finals and all that fun stuff then was hired to write content for a website. The research and writing left me pretty brain dead, and I couldn't get the motivation to write recreationally. Hopefully I'll have a little bit more time and energy to write this now that is over! I'm hoping to post _at least _once a month from here on out.

However, I did start writing some other fics when I was having writers block with this one. Would you like to read one of those as well? Let me know! :)

Thank you so much to everyone who has followed, favorited, and/or reviewed. You have no idea how much it means to me. I get a big ol' dopey smile when I see it. Thank you, thank you!


	7. Chapter 7: Pride and Prejudice

AN: Rights to JKR. Trans rights are human rights. Black lives matter. Stay safe, stay alive, stay kind. Happy Pride!

This story gained over 100 followers! THANK YOU! I really could not have done it without your encouragement and enthusiasm.

This chapter is dedicated to InsideTheFridge, The cat with blue eyes, huffledorcrackhead, MCFC Blue Moon, and everyone else that started this journey with me. Thank you for being there since the beginning!

This is the longest chapter so far! Enjoy and let me know if you like it!

* * *

Chapter 7: Pride and Prejudice

Sunday, July 15

Sunday morning, Hermione is reading in the living room with her legs tucked under her when Fred collapses on the couch next to her.

"I've been thinking, Hermione-"

Hermione hums, not putting her book down, "Rather dangerous for you, Fred."

He gives her leg a soft kick, "I have talents that require _much_ thought, thank you."

"Mmhmm."

Fred folds his arms, looking affronted. "I'll have you know that I'm a _master potioneer_ and could whip up a polyjuice potion that would give even Mad-Eye a run for his money."

Hermione lowers her book and grins, "Please. I was brewing that in my _second year_."

"Excuse me? You what?"

"Nevermind." She shakes her head and looks away, but Fred adjusts to sit closer to her.

"No, really. You were given permission to brew _polyjuice_ potion in your _second_ year? _How_?"

Hermione raises her book back up, covering her face, "I wasn't given permission."

Fred gasps and pushes her book down, "Hermione Granger, you mean to tell me you brewed it _illegally_? How did you get ingredients? Boomslang skin isn't something in a second year's potion kit."

Hermione sighs, "I stole it from Snape's stores."

"You stole - _you stole from Snape_?" He bursts out laughing, "And you chastised _me _for selling skiving snacks to students. How hypocritical."

"Well, what _I_ did was to protect the school and find out if Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin. What _you_ did was enable other students to skive off class."

"You broke into the Slytherin common room _and_ impersonated a student? That's at least two school rules, Hermione."

"When you're friends with Harry Potter, you break _a couple_ school rules… and a handful of laws."

"I'm getting the feeling I didn't really know you back in school. You might have broken more school rules than George and I did all while getting praises from teachers. Classy, 'Mione, classy," Fred jokes, shaking his head.

"I don't know how everyone thinks I'm above breaking rules. Harry, Ron, and I have defied Voldemort every single year since first year. _I'm_ the one that convinced Harry to start the DA. I broke into the Ministry _twice_ and then Gringotts and released a _dragon_. I aided Sirius' escape when I was _thirteen_. I've been breaking school rules and ministry statutes since I was _eleven_, and all anyone can see me as is a goody-two-shoes," Hermione huffs, and reopens her book.

Fred laughs and gently takes her book to put her slip of paper in between the pages, "You have to tell me _everything_."

And so she does. Fred is a wonderful audience, enthusiastically reacting to her hidden talent for mischief.

But the moment Hermione finishes the recap of her rule-breaking in sixth year, he jumps to his feet and pulls Hermione with him, causing her book to tumble to the ground. He swiftly bends down to pick it up and presses it into her hand. "We have to go to the Burrow immediately."

"Fred, what-"

"Immediately!" He leaps over the couch and rushes into his room for a pair of trainers before pulling Hermione into the fireplace.

"Fred! My shoes!"

"No time!"

He hurls a handful of floo powder down and emerald flames swirl around them. They arrive in the living room of the Burrow and Hermione dusts off her jumper and leggings before stepping out the fireplace.

"So there was time for you to pull on a pair of trainers but no time for me to even _grab_ a pair of shoes?"

"I'm glad you understand," Fred grins at Hermione before pulling her by the hand through the living room, up two flights of stairs, and into the bedroom the twins had previously shared and in which George was rifling through a couple of boxes.

"Fred, what are you _doing_?" She manages to keep up with him as he drags her into the bedroom.

He ignores her and turns to his twin, grinning, "Georgie, I think Hermione can help us."

George looks Hermione up and down, and stares at her soot covered feet, "What did you do to your feet?"

She elbows Fred and folds her arms, "Fred dragged me over here before I could slip on a pair of shoes."

"This isn't the _time_, Hermione. _Scourgify_." Fred points his wand at her feet and siphons off the grime before turning back to George. "_As I was saying_, if we play our cards right, we could have the mastermind of the Golden Trio working with us at WWW."

"You do know you're talking about _Hermione Granger_, don't you? Former Prefect and famous rule stickler?"

"I think we got the wrong impression of our young Hermione here. You should hear about some of the things she's gotten up to with Harry and our younger brother. Not to mention all the scheming and _friendly networking_ she's doing at some spiffy parties."

Hermione elbows Fred, "I only told you those things because you kept _pestering me_."

Fred ignores her, but George looks her up and down, scrutinizing her potential.

"And you're sure she's mischievous enough?"

"Downright _devious_."

"I'm _right here_." She folds her arms and glares at the two boys grinning at each other.

"So, how do we convince her?"

"Maybe bribe her with some sweets?"

"No, she'd never go for that. She won't even allow _biscuits_ in the flat."

"So we flatter her?"

"Nah, she already knows how smart and pretty she is. We'd just be bothering her."

"The only option left…"

They nod at each other and turn to her with creepy identical grins and flashing eyes, "Corner her." They finish the thought together and take a step toward her.

Hermione points her wand at the two of them and they freeze. "Boys, if either of you moves another _muscle_, I'll be forced to _hex_ you." She keeps her wand pointed at the two of them until she safely backs out of the bedroom and flies downstairs into the main room and into Harry.

"Oof, 'Mione. What are you running from?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just… _away_ from the twins."

"What did they do? You've got a deer-in-the-headlights kind of look."

"Oh, they didn't _do_ anything really. I made the mistake of telling Fred about stealing from Snape in second year. He told George, and the two of them got this idea in their heads that I'm going to be the third member of the mischief makers at the shop." She sighs and shakes her head, "This living arrangement is _tiring_, Harry."

He laughs and swings his arm around Hermione, hugging her to his side as they walk together to collapse on the couch, "You're a good sport, 'Mione. And a good friend. You've saved my arse more times than I can count."

"I think I've fulfilled my good friend obligations after this stunt," She nudges his side and smiles. "I'm retiring." She rests her head on his shoulder.

Mrs. Weasley walks in, wiping her hands on her apron. "Hermione, dear, would you run upstairs and gather everyone for dinner? We're just about ready to eat."

Hermione sighs and stands up, pulling Harry up with her. "If I'm not back down in five minutes, send a rescue party."

"Afraid of the twins?"

"Just not looking forward to dinner with them."

"Uh huh. Okay."

"Seriously, Harry. _Five minutes_."

"Yeah, yeah. Five minutes. Go on. I'll call Ginny, Ange, and Ron in from the pitch."

Hermione laughs and takes the first couple of steps up the stairs. "Save Ron the humiliation of finishing their game with Angelina. Ginny says he hasn't beaten her since our fifth year."

"He's gotten better!"

Hermione snorts, and Harry's laughter carries as he walks out the back door and Hermione makes her way up the rest of the stairs, calling for the twins.

After resounding silence from the twins, she stands on the third-floor landing and almost gives up when she feels her wand ripped from her grasp and she's shoved into the bathroom with George.

"_George_, _what_-"

"Hermione, before you say anything, I _know_ your bookshop is your life. _But_, think of all the joy you could be bringing to all the little pranksters coming into the shop."

"I like to think I bring plenty of _joy_ to the patrons of my shop."

"But your brain and creativity would help us in ways you can't even imagine. We could start a whole _Granger Danger_ line, and-"

Fred's whisper carries through the door and into the bathroom, "Has she agreed yet?"

"Not yet. Give me a second!" George whispers back.

"Maybe I would be more inclined to help if I wasn't just _kidnapped_ and _shoved_ into a bathroom with one of you annoying _prats_," Hermione snaps.

George clasps his hands over one of hers, "So, you're saying if we ask _really nicely_, then you might help?"

She snorts and rolls her eyes. "You two don't really need my help. You're both clever and imaginative. Think of everything you've already done! Your shop is wildly successful. You don't need _me_."

"But your input and assistance would be bloody useful. You're a genius, 'Mione." Fred's voice carries through the door again.

George takes her hand in his, "What if we promise not to label your products with your name? Then no one would even know it was you."

Hermione sighs and uncrosses her arms, "It's not that I'm against others seeing my name on the products. I just… I don't think I could be helpful creating products for pranks. I'm good at planning for survival, but I've never planned a _prank_. And I _hate_ being pranked."

"Oi, wrap this up. Mum's calling up the stairs."

George sighs, "Hermione, we could really use your brain."

"_George_, you shoved me into a _closet_. I think I'd rather not _conspire_ with my kidnappers."

From outside the closet door, they can hear Mrs. Weasley join Fred on the third-floor landing. "Oh, fancy seeing you here, Mum. I was just on my way down to dinner."

"Did you see Hermione on your way down? I sent her to bring you and your brother to dinner."

"Why, yes, I _did_ see her. I'll run and fetch her, shall I?" Hermione almost snorts at the modest and helpful tone in Fred's voice, but George glares at her. She rolls her eyes but keeps quiet.

"Would you, Fre-Geor-_dear_? Everyone is waiting in the kitchen."

"You go back down and just wait for a moment, Mum. I'll bring the two hooligans down for you."

When the sound of Mrs. Weasley's steps retreats down the stairs, Fred opens the closet door, "Time's up. We'd better get down to dinner or Mum'll have a cow."

0o0o0o0o0

After dinner, Hermione walks into the kitchen from the living room and trips over a stray shoe. She falls straight into Fred, who catches her and helps right her balance.

He raises his eyebrows at her, looking amused, "You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn't have to go to such extremes."

She just rolls her eyes and attempts to wriggle out of his arms, but he doesn't loosen his grip. He nuzzles his cheek on the top of her head, "You know, 'Mione, a bloke could get used to this."

"Oh, shut it, you prat." She folds her arms across her chest.

"Is that anyway to talk to your knight in shining armor?" He cuddles her closer but yelps and drops his arms from around her when she pinches his side _hard_.

"Knight in shining armor, my _arse_, Fred Weasley. You're the one that took my wand and then proceeded to shove me into the upstairs closet with George."

"_I_? Never. Must've been some bloke that looked like me." He holds a hand to his chest feigning innocence. He drops his pose and swings his arm around her shoulders. "Are you heading back to the flat?"

"I am."

"Bit early, isn't it?"

"You don't have to leave at the same time as me. I just thought I'd apparate a block away and walk back. It's a lovely evening, and I'd like to see Tilley's flowers."

"Tilley?"

"A neighbor. He owns the flower shop on the corner."

"Another of your gentlemen callers?"

She laughs and rests her hand on his arm, "Why, Fred, you almost sound jealous."

"You know I _pine _after you, 'Mione. How could you ever doubt my intentions?"

She rolls her eyes as she slips on the extra pair of shoes Ginny had given her earlier, "Are you planning on coming with me to make sure my _gentleman caller_ doesn't make any moves toward me?"

"Well, I _should _leave before Ron notices I've nicked one of his chess pieces. I'd love to join your little evening stroll and visit _Tilley's flowers_. Side-along work for you?"

Hermione takes his proffered arm. In the next room, they could hear Ron let out an annoyed groan, "_Fred!_"

"Ah, that would be our cue. Shall we?"

* * *

Friday, July 27

"Ace! Everyone drinks!" There's a smattering of groans and laughter as the partygoers drain their cups.

Neville stands up and leans heavily on his girlfriend's chair, "Sor, everyone. Hannah and I have a breakfa-birthday breakfast with her parents in the morning, and I… neeed them to not hate me for being hungover."

Laughter fills the room and Hannah stands as well, "Thanks for the parrty, Ginny. Happy birthday, Harry." The two shuffle into the fireplace and wave goodbye at the other partiers.

Just before Neville throws the floo powder around them, Hannah whispers something in his ear to make him go red, and the twins wolf whistle. Seamus leans across Dean and casts a flaming heart charm in their direction.

The heart flickers out just after Neville and Hannah disappear, but not before Ginny sends a bat-bogey hex at Seamus. "Oi! No flames in the house! So help me, Seamus, if you burn down this house before I move in, I _will _curse your bits off."

Through all the commotion and Seamus swearing he had it under control, Hermione quietly stands from her place at the table and slips into the next room, closing the door behind her. Picking up the earlier discarded book, she curls up on the couch to read.

After a ten minutes of blissful reading,Fred pokes his head into the sitting room, "'Mione? Mind if I join?"

She lowers her book and gestures to the other end of the couch, "Had too much?"

"Nah, just don't want to get too crazy. I'm opening the shop tomorrow morning, and don't want to show up completely wankered." He drops onto the other end of the couch, "Besides George would take the mickey out of me if he thought I couldn't handle the game, so I thought I could slip in here while Dean and Seamus say goodbye."

"They left?"

"They said to wish you their best. Apparently, they're afraid of interrupting your 'reading time' for whatever reason. Said something about a scar on Seamus' left buttock." Fred lifts an eyebrow, an amusing smile playing at his lips.

Hermione laughs and shakes her head, ignoring the last comment, "Seems you're not afraid of incurring my wrath."

"I think the worst you could do to me is force feed me your cooking. I still have nightmares about your attempt at meatloaf." Fred closes his eyes and shudders.

"It was _not_ that bad. You're exaggerating," Hermione kicks his folded legs and returns to her book.

Laughing, Fred rubs the sore spot on his leg. "What are you reading?"

"_Pride and Prejudice_."

"Sounds prestigious. Tell me about it."

She sighs and slips a bit of paper into the book and sets it on her lap. "Sometimes I forget how little wizards know about muggle literature, even famous novels and writers like Jane Austen." Shaking her head, she gives him a small, amused smile. "_Pride and Prejudice_ is about a family with five daughters. It follows one of the daughters, Elizabeth, and a very wealthy gentleman, Darcy, as they overcome their own pride and prejudice for each other and learn what it means to respect and love each other."

"That sounds a bit like our situation, don't you think? We've had odd first impressions, but I'd say we've worked it out to become friends."

She laughs softly, "The original title for the book was actually First Impressions. But she changed it after extensive rewriting."

Fred chuckles, "I'm always fascinated by the things you know, 'Mione. I'm impressed by your seemingly endless knowledge of all things, muggle and magic alike."

She blushes and looks down at her hands gripping the book, "I don't know everything."

"Of course not. No one can know everything. But I think the way you spend your time - learning, teaching, sharing, giving - is brilliant. The world deserves far less than to have you constantly trying to better it and all."

"Thank you… I don't think I often say this, Fred, but I've always admired the way you and George can make others laugh and smile - especially during the war. I think it's a very admirable way to live."

Fred nudges her leg with his foot. "Quite the compliment. Especially coming from you. Ta,'Mione."

She laughs and they both turn to the door when it swings open, Ginny leaning into the room, "Are you two coming to play the next round or what?"

"Sorry, Gin. I need to get some rest before work tomorrow. Some of us are responsible adults with very serious jobs." Fred stands and stretches.

She snorts, "The day you get a serious job is the day I join the Chudley Cannons. What about you, 'Mione?"

"If Fred's leaving, it's probably acceptable for me to leave. I have an _actual_ serious job." Hermione stands as well and laughs quietly.

The three walk back into the living room together and George looks over his shoulder at his place on the couch and wolf whistles, "You two finally done snogging in there? I _told_ Ginny not to interrupt you."

Hermione rolls her eyes and hits him on the back of the head with her book when she passes him to hug Ron goodbye.

Fred laughs and shakes his head. "Only in my dreams. 'Mione won't touch me with a ten-foot pole. Even if she does think I live admirably." He winks and she rolls her eyes, smiling.

"Happy birthday, Harry." She kisses his cheek and smacks George's shoulder when he tries to get a goodbye kiss as well, "_No_, George. Angelina is _right there_. Get some kisses from your _fiancé_."

"I get kisses from Ange all the time! I want a _Hermione_ kiss!" George whines and bats his eyelashes at her, puckering his lips.

"Keep that up, and you _won't_ be getting anymore kisses from me." Angelina kisses Hermione on the cheek and hugs her goodbye. "See you soon, love. Keep _that_ one on his toes, won't you?" She inclines her head at Fred, who's stepping into the fireplace.

"Oi! I don't need a babysitter. I take offense to the insinuation, Ange."

"I hope you do, Fred. I _know _it was you that infused my shea butter with skin dye."

"You said you wouldn't rat!" Fred yells at George and steps out of the floo.

"And have her blame me? _Are you daft_?"

"You're _both_ daft, now let's go _home_, Fred." Hermione pushes him back into the fireplace and takes a handful of powder. "_Goodnight_, everyone."

In a swirl of green flame, they disappear back to their flat above the Voyage.

* * *

So! Quite a bit more than usual. I hope you all liked it. I'm hoping to have another chapter out on the 25th, so leave a review, if you will, to give me some motivation!


	8. Chapter 8: The Good and the Bad

Chapter 8. Rights to JKR. Trans rights are human rights. Black lives matter. Stay safe, stay alive, stay kind.

First off, I am SO sorry for updating late. I swear I had everything finished, but I went to visit my in-laws this weekend to help unpack and organize their new house. I didn't realize they didn't have wifi, and I wasn't able to upload my files to the site! Again, SO sorry about that. But it's here now! Only two days late...

Second, I am a SL*T for clichés and tropes. LOVE them. My fics are a response to my favorite tropes, so enjoy. :)

Dedicated to Gabriele Kazlauskaite (you totally called this little plot bunny!) and PotterHeadFirebold (I'm updating twice a month because of you!).

* * *

Wednesday, August 1st

It's been three weeks since Fred moved in, and Hermione is pleasantly surprised how events have unfolded. Life with Fred in the flat has been relatively _normal_, a word previously not used to describe anything regarding either of the Weasley twins. The two are generally able to go about their lives without disrupting each other's, but there _have_ been a couple of instances where life became interesting...

0o0o0o0o0

Tuesday, July 17

The first occasion was an early Tuesday morning. Hermione woke an hour before her usual time and decided on a nice, long morning shower. She had slept on her shoulder wrong and was hoping the hot water would help soothe the aching muscles. She was only in the shower for five minutes, however, when she heard knocking on the bathroom door.

"Hermione, make it fast! I need the shower!" Fred knocked on the door after removing his shirt, balling it up, and throwing it back into his room.

"I just got in! Give me twenty minutes."

"No way! You showered _last night_. I need it this morning!"

"Can't it wait _ten_ _minutes_?"

"It _really_ can't! Get out!"

"Fred!"

"_Hermione! _I have a meeting with a potential vendor this morning, and I _cannot_ be late, so you'd better hurry up before I unlock this door and push you out myself."

"You wouldn't _dare_!"

"Just _try_ me! I can't be late today!"

"Alright, _alright_. Just let me rinse off the soap!" Grumbling, Hermione quickly rubbed away the remaining residue and turned off the water.

She wrapped a towel around her and opened the bathroom door. _Unfortunately_, Fred was leaning against the door and fell backwards into her, knocking them both to the ground.

Groaning, Fred pushed himself off Hermione and offered a hand to help her up. She took it and carefully got up, keeping one hand clutching the front of her towel to keep it up.

Fred rubbed a hand over his elbow where he had hit it against the doorknob falling down. "Why are you even up this early?"

"My shoulder hurt. And now the rest of me hurts, _thank you very much_." She massaged her shoulder with one hand while the other kept her towel wrapped around her.

Fred glanced at her shoulder momentarily before flicking back to meet her eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Noticing his bare chest, she cleared her throat then looked back up to him. "There's, uh, still some hot water left."

"Right. Thanks… I might need some cold right now," Fred chuckled awkwardly, and Hermione pinched him before slipping out of the bathroom and into her bedroom to get ready for the day.

0o0o0o0o0

Thursday, July 26th

The second was on the following Thursday. Hermione had just finished her third overhaul on the inventory and was _exhausted. _All she wanted was her leftover curry and a quick nap before her meeting with a couple of book vendors. She had _planned_ on working through lunch because of the heavy load, but the growling in her stomach and heaviness in her eyes convinced her that taking a small break wouldn't be a terrible idea. She made her way back into the flat and over to the kitchen to warm up her curry. She was just about to take her first bite when she heard the wireless tuning in the parlor.

Curious, Hermione crossed the living room and lightly tapped on the stained-glass before opening the door. "Fred?"

"No, wait!" Fred's frantic voice called out on the other side. Too late, Hermione pushed the door completely open to reveal a very naked Fred, who snatched up his canvas to cover his lower half.

"_What_ are you _doing?_" She yelled at him, blushing to the roots of her curly hair.

Fred haphazardly shoved his paint brushes into a cup of warm water while keeping his canvas between him and Hermione, "I told you not to come in here!"

"_Why _are you _naked_ in my parlor?"

"-_Our_ parlor-"

"-And why are you in here instead of a private space like _your bedroom?_" Hermione was caught between wanting to glare at Fred and keeping her eyes averted. The result was her switching between glaring at him and the canvas covering him.

"The natural light is better in here. And I was _supposed _to be alone up here because _you_ said you'd be working _downstairs _all day!"

"I came back for lunch!"

"Be nice if you had _mentioned_ that in your plan for the day. Could've prevented awkward situations like _this_." He made the mistake of waving his arms while gesturing, which allowed Hermione to get an eyeful of Fred in all his naked glory.

She stood out of the way of the door and pointed to his bedroom while staring fixedly at the floor. "Just-just go put on some clothes."

He sprinted into his room, trying to cover himself without the aid of his canvas, but Hermione still had a full view of his backside.

He emerged from his bedroom in a pair of trousers, pulling a shirt over his head. "New rule. Closed doors mean knocking and _waiting_ to be let in."

Hermione came to stand directly in front of him and crossed her arms over her chest. "_Speaking_ of rules, Fred, we said _no Naked Tuesdays._"

"It's Thursday! Loophole," Fred smirked as he leaned against the counter and drew her curry toward him.

Hermione smacked the spoon from his hand and pulled the bowl back to herself.

"C'mon, 'Mione. Admit it. You secretly like the idea of me wandering around naked up here. You can't _wait_ to get your hands on this," he swept his hand down his body and wriggled his eyebrows at her.

Hermione pinched his side.

Fred yelped and rubbed his side, brows now furrowed in pain, "_Why_ do you always _pinch_ me?"

"What, I thought you _wanted_ my hands on you."

"Not like _that_."

Hermione simply shrugged and took a bite of her curry.

It had gone cold.

Hours after the nude painting fiasco and after Hermione had closed shop for the night, Hermione woke at 2 a.m. with a burning thirst. She crawled out of bed and paused at the door to pull on Fred's pajama bottoms. She could hear the telly playing at a low volume from the living room and didn't want to get caught in only her shirt and knickers again.

As the door closed behind her, Fred spoke without turning from his spot on the couch. "Did I wake you?"

"No, just thirsty… Fred, are you okay?" Something in his voice sounded off. She shuffled closer to him and could see tears in his eyes.

"How has no one stopped this?" His shining eyes were glued to the documentary playing on her telly.

Hermione sat on the arm of her couch, taking in the piles of trash montage flashing across the screen. "Garbage Island? Not a lot of people have the power or finances to do much."

"What if everyone uses reusable bags like yours? That would help, right?"

"It's not that simple," Hermione sighed.

Fred looked up at her, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Hermione stands and shakes her head. "Let me get a glass of water first."

She returned with two glasses of cool water. Setting one in front of Fred on the coffee table, she wiped the condensation on the pajamas bottoms before sitting and sipping hers.

Fred also took a sip his eyes following her movements and snorted, "Nice pajamas."

"Thanks, they're comfortable." She smiled teasingly.

"Do you plan on giving them back?"

"Not really."

Rolling his eyes, Fred took another sip of water. "Tell me what you meant before… that people can't really help."

Hermione shivered, "Aren't you cold?"

She curled into him to steal his body heat, tossing a throw blanket over them. When she had finally settled in, Fred positioned his arm around her and gently pressed her into his side. "How do we fix it?"

"Really, a big part of the problem is large corporations. They use a certain type of fuel to power their production, and the fuel ruins the environment - polluting water, air, soil. Then the environment is no longer able to support the inhabitants - bacteria, plants, animals, people.

"And _then_ there's single-use plastics and non-biodegradable products. Corporations and factories use products that can't break down naturally. All the trash goes into landfills and the ocean, which then forms pseudo-islands like that.

"There _are_ things that normal people can do… compost, recycle, buy natural and biodegradable products. But… the companies that use natural ingredients and products usually come with higher price tags, and middle to lower class individuals can't always _afford_ what's best for the environment…

"And even if everyone _could_ afford it and are committed to making the change, the problematic corporations are still decimating the environment."

"So, it's a helpless cause?"

"It's easy to think that way and lose hope, but we can always do our part to not contribute to things like Garbage Island and to help educate others on humanity's impact in the world."

Fred frowned and turned his attention back to the telly, settling his head on top of Hermione's curls.

He didn't notice that Hermione had fallen asleep next to him until the documentary was finished. He looked over at his strangely silent companion. She had frequently talked through the few films they watched together to point out amusing facts and inaccuracies. He tried to shift his arm away from Hermione, but she moved in her sleep, wrapping her arms around his middle.

Fred allowed Hermione ten minutes more of her sleep before gently removing her arms from around him. "Hermione, wake up."

"Hm?" Hermione raised her head and looked around slightly confused and dazed.

Fred slowly moved back from her and helped prop her head up. "You should go back to bed. It's nearly three."

Standing, Hermione groaned and stretched. "Thanks for waking me." She smiled groggily at Fred, "You're a good flatmate… best I've had."

Fred's eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline at her comment and grinned crookedly, "Oh? And why is that?"

"You don't leave food in the crisper to expire and actually clean up after making messes. And you're actually very considerate."

Fred shot up from the couch, "_Excellent_. I'm off to tell Ronniekins you said I'm better than him. I'll bet he'd _love _to hear that."

Before he could get into the floo, however, Hermione blocked his path, looking decidedly less tired. "You will absolutely _not_ be telling him that."

Fred grinned as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, "And why is that?"

"_First_, it's almost three, and it's rude to barge into people's homes in the middle of the night. _Second_, he already has an inferiority complex and doesn't need to be told _any _of what I just said."

"As Ron's elder _and better_ brother, I feel it's my duty to make him aware that he should be emulating my every action. Because as the _great Hermione Granger_ said, I am the _superior_ flatmate."

Glaring, Hermione took another step closer to Fred, her index finger poking his chest, "Back _away_ from the floo."

"Make me." Fred took another step forward, almost nose and nose with Hermione, his eyes flashing with mischief and challenge.

Hermione attempted to push Fred back, but he caught her wrists in his hands. Unfortunately, her momentum caused them both to stumble and fall with harmonizing shrieks. Fred took the brunt of the fall as he banged his elbow on the coffee table and Hermione fell on top of him.

Hermione pushed herself up onto her hands, holding Fred's gaze. "Don't tell Ron."

Breathless and more than a little confused at the ambiguity of her request, Fred stared back, "I won't."

"Good," Hermione whispered.

She rose and pulled him up. She went back to her room and closed the door without saying anything else.

* * *

Friday morning, July 27th

The morning of Harry and Neville's shared birthday party, Hermione was hunting for her watch. She had taken it off sometime the previous day but could not remember _where_. She slowly pivoted in the living room, searching the surfaces for it. Groaning in resignation, she threw her hands up in disgust.

She crossed the floor to push the parlor door further open and leaned into the doorway, "Fred, have you seen my - wow. That's _amazing_."

She walked directly to the painting that Fred was working on and examined it. Smiling in awe, she finally lifted her eyes up to Fred's. "You did this? Is this what you were working on the other day?"

Fred nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, reddening slightly, "Yeah… Erm, what was it you were looking for?"

"Oh, right. I was wondering if you had seen my watch anywhere. I can't find it for the _life_ of me." Hermione glanced around the room as if hoping the watch might jump out at her.

Fred shook his head, "Have you checked your office?"

Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands, "My office. It should have been the first place I looked. Thanks."

"No problem," Fred murmured as he watched her walk back out the door, hair swaying hypnotically behind her.

* * *

Thursday, August 2nd

Fred's eyes fly open and he sits up, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. The silence of the night presses in on his ears, nothing to be heard but the pounding of his heart. After a few tense moments of silence, he sets his wand back down on his nightstand, having snatched it up unconsciously - a habit picked up during the war.

He forces his muscles to relax and lays back down. He's just about to drift back to sleep when he hears the sound that woke him - a choked whimper. Slowly he grasps his wand again and slips out of bed to find the source of the noise.

He finishes his inspection of the flat and is about to head back to bed when he hears a low whimper coming from Hermione's room. Gently knocking, Fred opens the bedroom door, "Hermione?"

The only response is a broken sob. He pushes the door further ajar, allowing him to barely make out Hermione's form - legs tangled in the sheets, hair fanned out on her pillow, a light sheen on her skin.

She lets out another sob, this time accompanied by a chocked, "No. _Stop_. I don't know, I don't _know_."

Fred quickly crosses the space between them and bends over Hermione, one hand grasping hers, the other smoothing hair away from her face. "Hermione, _wake up_. You're home. It's over. _It's all over_."

She wakes with a cry, eyes wide and red. Uncomprehending, she struggles with Fred a moment before going limp. She squeezes her eyes closed, but tears stream down her face. She takes a deep breath, but her lungs betray her, and she clutches Fred's arm as she starts to shake, the tears flowing relentlessly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," She whispers over and over, barely audible.

Fred sits on the side of the bed and hugs her close to his bare chest, his arms wrapped around her and his hand rubbing soothing circles across her back.

When it seems as though the worst has passed, Fred gently disentangles himself from her. He silently conjures a cup and fills it with water, gently offering it to her.

Hermione takes the cup thankfully and sips from it. She breaks their silence, "I'm sorry for waking you."

Fred shakes his head and smoothes a piece of hair behind her ear, "I'm sorry I didn't wake you sooner."

Hermione gives a watery sort of smile, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Silence reigns between them while Hermione slowly slips from Fred's conjured cup.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly four."

"Ah."

Hermione finishes the water and reaches for her wand to vanish the conjured glass, but her hands are shaking too badly.

"Let me." Fred vanishes the cup and sets his wand next to hers on the nightstand. "Do you want to talk about it?" At her frown, Fred backtracks, "Of course you don't have to, but if you want to, I'm here… I still get them sometimes too… Most of the time, it's George lying there, and I couldn't save him. Sometimes it's Mum or Gin or…" He clears his throat. "Having an active imagination isn't always fun and pranks."

Hermione shakes her head. "It's not my imagination. It's a memory." Hermione closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "We… we were captured."

Fred takes her shaking hand in his warm ones and smoothes his thumb over her white knuckles.

"I got Harry in the face with a stinging curse so they couldn't recognize him. They took us to Malfoy Manor… and they were going to call _Him_ when sh-sh-she saw the sword. She thought we had taken it from her vault and wanted to know what else we had taken."

"She? She who?"

Hermione closes her eyes, and a tear runs down her cheek. When she opens her eyes, her voice cracks, "Bellatrix."

Fred releases one of her hands to wipe the moisture from her eyes. He gently pulls her to his chest, mumbling into her hair, "We don't have to talk about it."

Hermione shakes her head and pulls back slightly, taking a shuddering breath. "I want to. If… if you'll listen."

Fred brushes a knuckle down her cheek and smiles softly at her. "I'll listen."

Hermione breaks away from him and moves aside to allow him a spot under the blanket with her. They settle in, laying side by side, her hand gripping his.

"She had the others take Harry and Ron down to the basement while she… tortured me. I could hear them yelling and calling for me. I've never heard them sound so scared. I'd never _felt_ so scared… terrified… She tortured me, made me hurt, made me see things, hear things.

"At first _she_ was just scared I had taken something else from her, wanted information. But after a while, I could tell she was just enjoying it. She put down her wand and gave me this… and this…"

Hermione raises herself on her elbow to show Fred the scars, one on her neck, the other carved into her arm. Fred gently traces both, his eyes hard, jaw clenched… but his fingertips are gentle, caressing. Their gazes meet and Fred swallows, his mouth dry.

"And then?"

Hermione lays back down, their hands clasped once more. "And then Dobby came. He apperated Griphook, Ollivander, and Luna to Shell Cottage, then came back for Harry, Ron, and me. He got us all out… but _she_ threw a knife just as we were apparating out."

She lets out another sob, and Fred turns on his side to face her, squeezing her hand and gently wiping her tears away.

"He's buried there. At Shell Cottage. We gave him a burial. He saved us, but we couldn't help him."

She turns to him and buries her head in his chest. Fred smoothes her hair and holds her to him, whispering things to her all the time, "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I'm sorry for Bellatrix and Dobby and that I couldn't help protect you or help you… I'm sorry you were alone and couldn't tell or trust anyone else. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

They slowly drift off to sleep, wrapped around one another, finding comfort and warmth and safety and peace.

* * *

So, I wasn't _super_ feeling this chapter, so it took me forever to get around to writing it. So instead of writing, I agreed to beta for another fic and focused on that instead… lol

Anyway! Not my favorite chapter, but this conversation had to happen… and the nightmares needed a lead in…

If y'all are confused about the timeline, most of this chapter occurs between the two dates of the last chapter which is why it's written in past tense. The only "new thing" (which is in present tense) is the nightmares.


	9. Chapter 9: Favors

Rights to JKR. Trans rights are human rights. Black lives matter. Stay safe, stay alive, stay kind.

So sorry I'm late in updating! I was so excited to write this chapter, but I had some unexpected life things happen. Thank you for understanding and being patient. Hopefully the length of this chapter will make up for it being two weeks late. :)

Also - this fic isn't _really _non-linear. Chapter 8 was, but only to showcase the specific points in their cohabitation where things were a little awkward for them. Should be straight on for the rest of the chapters :)

As always, leave a review and let me know what you thought! I'd love to hear from you!

* * *

Chapter 9

-Favors-

Monday, August 6th

Fred arrives home through the floo to find Hermione bouncing on her heels with her hands clasped in front of her chest, waiting for him in the living room. He cautiously removes his bright work robe while eyeing her apprehensively, "Haven't seen you this agitated since you cornered me in 7th year and asked me to join the DA. Alright there, 'Mione? Not planning on starting another secret society are you?"

Hermione laughs and rolls her eyes, "Not just this minute, no. Fred, I need your help." She takes a step closer to him.

"You've a special talent for cornering people, you know that?" Fred chuckles and sets his hands on her shoulders, gently moving her back so he can step around her and walk to the kitchen for a glass of water. "Are you in some kind of trouble with that Austen guy?"

"What, no. This has nothing to do with James. I need to ask you for a favor." She follows him to the kitchen and hops up to sit on the counter next to him.

"What kind of favor? It's something dirty, isn't it?" Fred raises an eyebrow as a smirk quirks up at the side of his mouth and he takes a sip of his water.

He laughs and dances back when Hermione reaches forward to pinch him, water sloshing down the front of his shirt.

"I need a date for a wedding this weekend."

"And you need me to… what, ask Lee or someone to be your date? What about all your new connections from 'friendly networking?'"

"I don't feel comfortable enough with any of them to go to a wedding. And I don't need you to _find_ me a date. I'm asking if you'll _be_ my date."

"Me?"

Hermione nods as Fred mulls it over for a moment, using his wand to siphon the water off his shirt. He looks back up at her, tilting his head to the side. "Why not ask Harry?"

"He's working."

"Ron?"

Hermione chews on her bottom lip and picks at a thread on her jeans. "He met my family when we were dating. We agreed it would be awkward for the both of us if he was my date."

Fred fake pouts as he places his hands on either side of her thighs, "So I'm your last choice?"

"You weren't my first choice, but you're definitely not my _last_." Hermione rolls her eyes and gently removes a fuzz from his shoulder.

"Third choice is pretty good." Fred grins up at her but frowns when she clears her throat and looks up at the ceiling, not meeting his eyes.

"Fourth? Who did you ask before me?"

"Neville. But he, erm, has a real date that night."

"I can't believe you asked _Neville_ before you asked your own flatmate." Fred whines and moves her hand away from the loose thread on her jeans, intertwining their hands.

"He and I occasionally catch up and chat over a coffee. It wasn't so odd for our friendship." Hermione defends her friend and removes her hand from his, folding her arms over her chest.

Fred leans an elbow on the counter and rests his chin on a fist, looking up at Hermione with a thoughtful expression. "What would I have to wear? I'm guessing muggle weddings don't call for wizard robes."

"Is that a yes?" Hermione smiles down at him and crosses a leg over the other, leaning back on one arm.

"Of course it is. How could I say no to a damsel in distress, especially if it's my darling flatmate. You could even let your imagination run wild and convince yourself this as a real date, 'Mione. Don't think I've forgotten about your little _crush _on me." He jokingly traces one long finger down her shoulder and arm to trace over each of her fingers.

Hermione rolls her eyes and jokingly pushes him away from her, sliding off the counter back to the ground. "I think your pestering could possibly be the reason you weren't my first choice," She teases. She walks toward the front door to head back to her office, looking back over her shoulder at Fred. "Saturday. Be ready by five; I've already registered a portkey with the Ministry."

Saturday, August 12th

That Saturday, Fred is uncharacteristically early in getting ready, sitting on the couch in a new navy suit and drumming his fingers along his calf, his ankle propped up on his knee a full half hour before their departure. After five minutes of this impatient waiting, Fred arises from the deep cushions and goes to lean into the doorway of the bathroom where Hermione is doing her makeup.

He stands and watches for a moment as she opens her mouth in a comically wide imitation of a fish while dabbing on mascara. He laughs but quickly sobers when Hermione shoots him a reproachful look. He clears his throat and twirls a makeup brush between his fingers. "I realized I don't actually know who's getting married."

"A cousin on my mother's side. Noah," Hermione replies, sucking in her cheeks to apply blush.

Fred lowers the brush and turns his full attention back to Hermione, "I didn't know you had any family besides your parents."

"My aunt moved the family to France, but the son came back to England for Uni. That's where he met his fiance," She finishes her makeup by spraying something over her face and turns to look at Fred.

He had seen her in her usual everyday makeup, but this time she looked… shimmery and angled, eyes glittering as she collected her various powders and brushes. Fred takes several from the heap in her arms and helps her transport them back to her bedroom. "Are you quite ready?"

"Just let me get changed."

"Sure, sure," He accepts, nodding. He looks around Hermione's room from his position leaning against one of the posts on her bed but looks back to Hermione when she doesn't move. "What?"

"I need to get changed, so… get out." She makes a shooing motion at him.

He rolls his eyes, hiding his teasing grin and leaves the room for her to change.

After a couple of minutes, Hermione leaves her room and joins Fred in the kitchen. She turns her back to him, revealing the open zipper to her dress. "Zip me, will you?"

"Erm, yeah. Yeah," Fred rubs the back of his neck then slowly zips up the back of the dress, his fingers gently brushing along her spine. He watches in fascination as goosebumps spring up under his touch. When the clasp is done at the top of the zipper, Hermione slowly turns to him. "Thanks."

"No problem," breathes back to her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Hermione's eyes flick away from his then back. "We have to go."

"What?"

"It's time to go. The portkey…"

She turns his attention to an old skeleton key glowing blue on the kitchen counter. They both connect a finger to the key as the blue light grows. A jerking sensation tugs behind their navels as they leave the flat behind and land in what seems to be a _very_ small coat room.

Hermione trips over a fallen jacket and Fred catches her right as the door opens to reveal a very surprised coatroom clerk, poised to hang a coat in the closet.

"This ought to be interesting," Fred whispers in Hermione's ear. Then to the clerk, he grins and waves, pressing Hermione closer to him. "Mind closing the door, mate? Haven't quite finished in here."

The clerk starts chattering in agitated French, some of the words ringing with familiarity thanks to Fleur.

Hermione releases her hold on the front of Fred's dress shirt and attempts to smooth the wrinkles out. She edges out of the closet, babbling back at the clerk, apologizing and pulling Fred with her. He does not miss the way her cheeks are flushed or the racing pulse beating at her throat.

They finally get away from the clerk and collapse against a wall, Fred laughing too hard to go any further. Hands on his knees, he wheezes with mirth until Hermione too collapses in laughter and embarrassment. Fred finally gets a hold of himself and straightens. "Well, Hermione, have you ever been caught in a closet with a bloke before? Or am I your first?"

Hermione rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face widens, "Getting caught in a closet is rather un-Hermione-like behavior, don't you think?"

Fred takes a step closer to her and leans against the wall, "So I am your first."

"First guy I've been _caught_ in a closet with, but not the first guy I've been in a closet _with_."

"What? Who-" Fred's eyebrows fly into his hairline, simply buzzing with questions, but he is cut off when a tall middle-aged woman rounds the corner and almost walks into the two of them.

"Oh, _Hermione_, darling! I didn't know you'd be coming. Jean said something about a work problem coming up last minute."

The entirety of their greeting, Hermione's Aunt Julia is eyeing Fred, sizing him up. "This isn't your Ron, is it? I remember him being taller and… not as well built."

"Oh, erm no. Aunt Julia, meet Fred."

"_Enchanté_, Fred." Aunt Julia allows Fred to kiss her hand before addressing Hermione again, "I do believe you have a penchant for gingers, Hermione dear."

"Well, actually… Fred is Ron's older brother."

"Oh, so _that's_ why you broke up. How delightful! It's about time you've done something scandalous," The older woman exclaims, clapping her hands together and looking between them.

"_Aunt Julia_-"

"Excuse me, dear," Aunt Julia pats her on the cheek and calls out to another wedding guest, "Henry, please don't touch…" her voice trails off as she makes her way over to a young boy who had run off with one of the bridesmaid's bouquet.

Fred turns to Hermione and lifts two glasses of champagne off a passing waiter's tray and offers one to her. "That was interesting."

"My Aunt Julia has always thought me a boring shut-in with about as much life experience as a flobberworm. And of course, I couldn't tell her about the mischief I would get up to at school or even that I dated a professional Quidditch player to prove her wrong," She sighs and shakes her head, an amused smile playing at her lips. Then for Fred's amusement, in a condescending tone she adds, "Muggles."

He laughs and puts an arm about her waist as they cross the main lounge to take in the view from the high windows. He sips quietly on his champagne while watching the guests mill about and conversing in the courtyard. "Where are we, exactly? I'm assuming somewhere in Phlegm's native country."

Hermione rolls her eyes but smiles up at him, sipping at her glass. "Chateau d'Argent in the Riviera province of southern France. My mother told me there was quite a row about where the wedding would be. Apparently her side of the family has _quite_ the flair for dramatics that clashed wonderfully with Aunt Julia's own."

"_Really_? Tell me all about it," Fred grins down at Hermione as he hooks her elbow through his and walks them outside to the central courtyard where guests were gathering and finding their seats on opposite sides of the aisle. Hermione laughs and begins to tell him everything her mother had relayed to her about the dramatic wedding planning.

"Another?" Fred lifts her empty flute of champagne as he finishes his and sets it on a waiter's tray.

Hermione shakes her head. "Probably not. I don't think Aunt Julia would be any too pleased if I was sloshed before the wedding even fully starts."

Fred laughs, "Though I think it would be a wonderfully entertaining prank to release a fully plastered Hermione on the wedding, I'll keep my impulses in check." He winks at her and she laughs back to him.

"Hermione!"

Hermione's head whips around as she hears her mother call her name. Mrs. Jean Granger enters their row and takes a seat on the other side of Hermione.

"Mum!" Hermione leans over to hug her mother. "I thought we'd see you before the ceremony. Where have you been?"

"We were busy talking to that Adams boy that used to pick on you when you were younger. Your father's still over there." Catching sight of Fred, Mrs. Granger smiles at him, "Well, now. This must be your Mr. Fred Weasley, the one staying with you, right?"

"Wonderful to formally meet you, Mrs. Granger." Fred offers his hand, which she readily shakes.

"And you. I'm afraid I only know Ron and Ginny aside from your parents. How many siblings do you have?"

"I have six siblings, five brothers and Ginny."

"That's quite a lot of you."

Fred laughs lightly and winks at Hermione, "Yeas, ma'am. It was always a madhouse at home."

"David and I would have loved for Hermione to have siblings, but I'm afraid it just wasn't in the cards," Mrs. Granger shakes her head, but continues on in the conversation, "And Hermione tells me you own that joke shop in Diagon Alley with your twin. How is that going for you?"

"Business has been wonderful. Hermione actually inspired a new project I'm working on."

Hermione rests a hand on Fred's wrist, "I didn't know that. What is it?"

Fred winks at Mrs. Granger before looking to Hermione, "It's a surprise. But I promise you'll like it."

Mr. David Granger enters their row at that point and leans past his wife to hug Hermione, "Hello, little one. Your mother gave me the impression you weren't coming." He takes his seat and leans forward to rest his arm on the chair in front of him to have better access to the conversation.

"I was able to clear up the work matter on time," Hermione answers evasively. Luckily, Jean is too excited to see her daughter to notice.

"Are you staying a night at the Chateau or flying back immediately after?"

Hermione lowers her voice, "We're taking a portkey back tonight."

"Too bad. We would have loved getting to be with you more. We have some big news to share with you. Jean grasped Hermione's hand and smiled at her.

"How have the guests been? Anything dramatic happen between Julia and Nancy's family?"

Mr. Granger shakes his head. "It seems everyone has cooled off now that it's the big day. Speaking of guests, though, your mother and I were just engaged in conversation with Marcus Adams. You remember him; he went to elementary with you and Noah and lived down the street from Julia's family. Seems he's become a fine young man. Gone into accounting, you know."

Hermione rolls her eyes, huffing out a breath. "I'll _bet_ Marcus Adams is doing well for himself." She leans toward Fred and mumbles out the side of her mouth, "An absolute _prat_."

Fred leans closer to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I could prank him. Just for a bit of fun."

Hermione bites her lip, actually considering it for a moment before shaking her head, "If I didn't care about ruining the wedding, I'd take you up on that. But I don't want Noah or Nancy to panic over the best man's hair on fire."

"Nancy's the bride?" Fred questioned, his head cocked to the side.

"Right. Speaking of…"

They hadn't noticed the seats around them had been steadily filling while they had been talking. Several speakers struck up a soft tune, and the wedding party slowly made their way up the aisle, smiling and, in some cases, crying.

The ceremony was beautiful, though typical in vows, music, and the noticeable lack of pranks. After it had concluded, the married couple led the way to a four course dinner in an open pavilion plentifully bestrewn in flowers.

During the dessert course of dinner (a decadent dacquoise layered with almond buttercream), Fred leans toward Hermione and brings up their conversation from earlier, "Who have you been in a closet with?"

"What?" Hermione furrows her brow and lays a hand on his wrist.

"Earlier you said you'd been in a closet with a guy, but it was a bit confusing."

Hermione lifts an eyebrow, "And you're still thinking about it?" When Fred shrugs, Hermione continues, "What about it?"

"You said being in a closet with a guy is 'un-Hermione-like' behavior, yet you said it wasn't your first time?"

"I said _getting caught_ in a closet with a guy is un-Hermione-like. I'm not inclined to getting _caught_, Fred," Hermione smirks then laughs at the face Fred makes.

Hermione's mother leans toward them, "What's so funny over here?"

Hermione lowers her voice, "Our portkey landed us in a coat closet, and a clerk thought we were having it on when he caught us coming out of it."

Jean laughs and leans back to tell Hermione's father about their unfortunate experience with the coat room clerk. He was not so amused.

A half hour after dinner, the dancing commences and Fred and Hermione watch as the couple take up their first dance together. They end the song in a dramatic dip, Noah leaning down to kiss his bride. The audience claps and Hermione has to elbow Fred to get him to clap along. He rolls his eyes but complies. When the next dance strikes up, Hermione automatically makes her way to the edge of the dance floor. Fred follows after, but pulls her back before she can leave completely.

"Don't you want to dance?"

"Dancing wasn't part of the deal. It's fine."

"I don't want you going around and telling others I was a bad date, 'Mione." Fred jokes then leans in to whisper in her ear when she doesn't buy it, "And I actually like dancing."

Hermione looks up at him, trying to scrutinize whether he's telling the truth. "Do you really?"

Fred nods and offers his hand, smiling down at her, "If you would be my gracious partner, Hermione, I would love to dance."

Nevertheless, she takes his hand, albeit hesitantly, and he guides her back toward the middle of the dance floor.

During the dance, Fred and Hermione end up dancing near Noah and Nancy. Noah sees his cousin and sweeps by them.

"Hermy! I didn't think you'd come. Good to see you," Noah twirls his bride away and continues to make fragmented greetings to their other dancing guests.

"Congratulations!" Hermione calls after them, then under her breath, "_Why does everyone keep saying that_?" Fred chuckles then grunts in pain when Hermione purposely steps on his foot.

They finish the dance, but stay on the floor when an upbeat song plays over the speaker. Hermione can't help but laugh at Fred and his tirelessly silly dance moves. He twirls and dips and sways her, and she can't help but feel totally carefree, happy to look like a fool as long as she's dancing with Fred. They take a break after cooling down to the next slow dance, and leave the dance floor.

Fred deposits Hermione at a table and goes to get some punch to cool the parched feeling in their throats. Hermione leans back in her chair at the table, watching the other couples dance and giggling to herself. She bends down to fix the clasp on her shoe at her ankle when a shadow passes over her. She looks up smiling, thinking it's Fred, but the smile drops from her face when she recognizes Marcus Adams.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Hermy Granger."

"Only Noah gets to call me that, Marcus," Hermione stands up, even with Marcus' height in her sensible heels.

Marcus smirks then offers his hand, "Care to dance, _Hermione_?"

"No, thank you. I'm waiting for my date," Hermione doesn't even glance at his proffered hand.

Marcus drops his hand and sneers, "Did you have to _hire _a date? I heard you weren't coming because you couldn't find one."

"Completely untrue, as her boyfriend is here with her," Fred joins them at that moment, setting two glasses of punch on the table.

Hermione looks at him, stunned, "Fred…"

Fred joins her at her side and laces their hands together, squeezing reassuringly.

Marcus looks between Hermione and Fred, sizing the height difference between himself and the ginger. "I was just asking your girlfriend if she would dance with an old childhood friend, to catch up. You wouldn't begrudge me that."

"I shouldn't be the one you're asking. That's up to her," Fred states, unsmiling.

Marcus' jaw clenches and he swivels focus to Hermione, "Well? Dance with me."

Hermione straightens, "I'd really rather not."

"Fine. Didn't want to find out what kind of hussy you turned out to be anyway," Markus turns away, muttering under his breath, "Tramp."

The next few moments happen so quickly, Marcus only has time to register a pressure on his shoulder, blinding pain in his nose, and then the cold floor against his back. Someone was yelling. A couple someones actually, and one of them was him.

"Fred! You-Marcus-oh m-we need to _leave_."

Hermione pulls Fred away from Marcus, but before they can enter the building and get back to the closet to take their portkey away, Aunt Julia comes out to see what the fuss was about on the dance floor.

"Hermione darling, did you see what happened? Why are you looking so flustered dear?"

Fred wraps his arm around Hermione's shoulder, "Marcus Adams was harassing Hermione, and I punched him."

"_Did_ you now? My, oh, my." Aunt Julia looks Fred up and down approvingly.

"I'm so sorry, Aunt Julia. Please tell Nancy and Noah how sorry I am about this-"

"Nonsense, darling! What a lovely turn of events! Here I was, thinking this was going to be the most boring wedding in the history of France when your dashing Fred threw that punch at the best man. What fun! No proper wedding ends without a little brawl, you know. Besides, that egghead Marcus boy had it coming to him. He's been nothing but unpleasant since the dancing began. And don't you worry about Nancy or Noah. I saw them sneak out the back door after the first two songs. Now, you two scamper off and I'll just settle some things here, hm?" Julia finishes with a smile and kisses Hermione's cheeks before slipping away to "handle" the situation.

Hermione pulls Fred by the hand back into the Chateau, through the lounge, and around the corner into the hallway where the coat closet was. When they're finally hidden from the other wedding guests, she turns back to him and inspects the knuckles on his right hand, muttering all the time.

"I don't know _what _possessed you to do such a thing. Could have gotten hurt. What if he had hit you back?" She takes out her wand and taps it against the broken skin and it begins to heal itself until it's the shiny pink of new skin. She looks back up to his eyes, concern and reproach written all over her face.

Before she can speak, however, Fred puts a finger to her lips, "Before you start to scold me like a little boy, I'll be right back." He turns on his heel and whips around the corner, out of sight.

Hermione closes her eyes and tilts her head back against the cool wall behind her, taking a deep breath. She reopens her eyes when she hears Fred's footsteps returning. He turns around the corner with a bottle of rosé and two glasses. He hands the bottle to her and with his spare hand, entwines their fingers again and leads her around the corner, through a hall, and up a flight of stairs.

"Fred, where are you tak-"

"Just wait. I saw it from outside."

He finally takes her through a door onto a secluded balcony mostly covered by trees and rose vines with plenty of foliage that allowed them to see the guests dancing in the courtyard below without the dancers seeing the balcony. In fact, the only place from the courtyard that did have a small view of the balcony was the corner table where Hermione had sat after their dancing and before the incident. Marcus was now occupying their abandoned table, attempting to stem the flow of a bloody nose before it could ruin his tux.

Hermione turns to Fred, who is grinning widely at her. He pours the glasses and offers one to her, but she drinks from the bottle instead.

"If I'm being completely honest, I _did_ just swipe that from the kitchen."

Hermione shakes her head and wipes a bit of liquid from the corner of her mouth, "I really don't care about that right now."

He raises his glass to clink her bottle, and they quietly sip the wine.

"He deserved it, you know. The guy's an arse," Fred states after a minute of silence as they watch Marcus finally mop up the rest of the blood.

Hermione breathes a soft laugh and looks up at Fred as he leans his forearms against the railing next to her. "Thank you. For standing up for me and saying you were my boyfriend. It…" Hermione clears her throat and takes another drink, staring through the foliage to watch the guests dance wildly to the song blaring over the speakers.

"I know you could have handled the situation, but I thought you might appreciate the help. You don't have to do everything on your own, 'Mione. It's okay to get help," Fred smiles at her.

She smiles back and nudges his shoulder with her own, "I know. And you're my go-to now that I've seen some of your work."

Fred laughs. "I'll be there whenever you want to do _whatever _you want. Just warn me beforehand if it's going to be something sexual. I have to get in a mindset for that."

He dodges but doesn't quite make it out of the way before Hermione pinches his side. She then drains her glass and takes his hand to pull him back downstairs, "Come on. It's time to go if we're going to make the scheduled portkey."

When they arrive back at the flat, Hermione groans and faceplants onto the couch, kicking off her heels. "My feet are _killing_ me." Hermione moans into the couch as the cushion at her feet sinks in.

She feels Fred sit on the couch and gently take her feet in his hands and begin to press his thumbs into the soles of her feet. "Better?"

"You have _no _idea how good that feels. Heels are the _worst_ and _completely _impractical."

Fred laughs then is silent for a moment as he continues to rub her feet. "How often do you see that side of your family?"

Hermione turns her head to look behind him. "I haven't seen most of them since before my fifth year… when I obliviated my parents' memories. Before I sent them to Australia, I had my parents write to my aunt Julia to tell them we were moving to a remote colony in Africa for a couple of years to fix teeth. I've only seen them once since the Unspeakables restored my parents' memories."

"Ah." Fred is silent again for a couple of minutes and Hermione almost falls asleep at his ministrations until he speaks again. "I think you're the bravest person I've met, Hermione. I don't think - I _know_ I wouldn't be able to do fully half the things you've done."

Hermione sits up, "Thank you, Fred. And thank you for going with me… and for your help with Marcus."

"You're welcome… I'm going to bed. Goodnight." Fred offers a pitiful excuse of a smile before standing and walking to his bedroom.

"Goodnight," Hermione whispers as he shuts the door behind him without another word.

* * *

Thursday, August 17th

Ginny's birthday was the previous Friday, but she had been so slammed with practice for the Holyhead Harpies' first game, that she hadn't been able to celebrate it, and when the team captain announced they'd have a free day to let their bodies rest, Ginny immediately owled Hermione to schedule a girls night and breakfast the next morning.

And so it happens that on Thursday, Ginny and Hermione find themselves drinking at a muggle pub, talking and laughing about everything and nothing. And after a few shots and several drinks, the girls are pleasantly buzzed.

"So how has it been since Fred moved in. You haven't been complaining like I thought you would," Ginny asks, drinking a Cosmo the bartender had just passed her.

Hermione smiles into her lemons drop martini, "He's been - it's been - the arrangement seems to be working fairly well. He's helpful and nice and clever."

"You're really not bothered by it?"

"It really hasn't been bad. I'm mean, sure, there were a couple of times he annoyed me, but I haven't throttled him-"

"-always a good sign-"

"Right!"

"What do you two do? I can't imagine the two of you ignoring each other, but I can't imagine you braiding each other's hair either."

Hermione smiles and finishes her drink. "He insists on cooking dinner at least three times a week, so we eat together and talk. Sometimes we watch films. We've played chess, or we've _tried to_. You know I'm rotten at chess. He paints and does his pottery while I read. It's quite calming actually. And we went to my cousin's wedding together last weekend." Hermione giggles and swirls her drink before taking a sip of the new drink a bartender had placed in front of her, "He was a good date, and I actually had a really good time."

Ginny lowers her Cosmo and scrutinizes her friend, "Hermione, do you _fancy_ Fred?"

"_No_. I… I don't think so… okay, maybe - maybe a _little_. He's nice! And he smells good and he's neat. And _funny_. I mean, everyone knows the twins are funny, but he makes _intelligent _jokes. He makes me laugh… _And_ he's grown up a bit. Or at least he's stopped teasing me all the time. He acts more mature around me, like I get to see the _normal_ Fred. And I like the normal Fred," Hermione tries to defend herself with a serious face, but she ends up smiling into her martini while Ginny giggles at her.

"And is there anything else you're just dying to tell me about him?" Ginny gently probes, smirking.

Hermione stills, now frowning, "I told him about Malfoy Manor… and what happened."

"Were you okay? How did he handle it?"

Hermione gives a sad smile and drains her glass, "He was really kind and helpful. He made me stop crying and he listened…"

"He's always been a good listener."

The bartender returns with another glass of Hermione's choice drink.

"Have you seen him without a shirt since the waterpark?" Ginny tries to distract her friend before the mood settles on the serious topic.

Hermione giggles, a blush spreading across her cheeks, "He's quite built, isn't he? And his face is nice to look at. Especially when he does that little crooked smile. You know the one where he quirks up just the left side of the mouth."

"_Classic _Fred smile, I know. I'm glad you approve." She looks around and scowls at a couple of guys yelling about something or other a little ways down the bar. "Why don't we head back to your flat and watch a bit of telly?"

Ginny pays for their drinks with Hermione's card (it was _her_ birthday after all) and loops arms with Hermione, the two stumbling out of the bar and into an alley where they can apparate to the Voyage in safety.

When they stumble through the door to the flat, Ginny groans and toes off her heels. "Do you have some joggers I could borrow? Don't feel like watching telly in this," She gestured to her short leather skirt and tight top.

"Yeah," Hermione motions for Ginny to follow her into the bedroom. When they get into the room, they both strip to their underwear and paw through Hermione's pajama drawer for something comfortable.

Finally dressed in the loose fitting clothes, they traipse back to the living room and collapse onto the couch. Ginny switches the telly on and over to the Hallmark channel for a couple of sappy romcoms.

They're able to stay awake through the first movie and halfway into the second before they fall asleep, leaning against each other under a blanket.

The next morning, the girls are shaken awake at the unholy hour of 6 a.m. Fred leans over the back of the couch, nudging Ginny's shoulder. "Hey. Why don't you go lie down in an actual bed for a while and I make you breakfast?"

Ginny smiles sleepily up at her brother and pats his arm. "You're good. I like you. C'mon, 'Mione."

The two girls rise from the couch and teeter to Hermione's bedroom, but before they get to the bedroom, Fred pulls Hermione back. "Help me with the coffee maker. It's making that weird gurgling noise without anything coming out again."

Hermione grumbles and leans against him as she crosses to the kitchen counter.

"Where did the directions I wrote for you go? It was taped right here." Hermione taps the top of their coffee maker and looks up at Fred who shrugs. She sighs and opens the top, peering inside. "You forgot water. _How_ do you forget _water_?"

"I don't know - is that my shirt?" Fred breaks off, pointing at Hermione's pajama top and grinning.

Hermione flushes slightly, "Maybe."

"Is _that_ where they keep going? I thought your washing machine was eating them or something," He laughs and tugs gently at the shirt sleeve.

"They're comfortable and soft," she bites her lip and smoothes down the front of the shirt she's wearing.

Before either of them can say anything else, Ginny reenters the kitchen at that moment, leaning across the counter. "I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep. Coffee ready yet?"

Fred glances back at Ginny and prepares three mugs. "Just about."

Hermione turns to her friend and takes the couple of steps away from Fred to lean closer to Ginny. Purposefully placing her back between them and Fred, she lowers her voice. "Do me a favor? Don't tell Fred what we talked about last night."

"Don't tell Fred wha-hng." Fred's whisper breaks off at Hermione's elbow in his ribs when she ears him in her ear.

She whirls to face him, fists flying to her hips. "Don't sneak up on me! And _don't_ listen in on other people's conversations!"

Fred backs up, one hand still on his stomach and a crooked grin on his lips. "What don't you want Ginny to tell me? Were you _talking_ about me?"

Hermione glares at Fred and takes Ginny's hand. "Don't bother with breakfast. We're getting dressed and then _going out_."

"Hermione, wait-" Ginny tries to calm her friend down, but the next moment, she's pulled into Hermione's bedroom, the door slamming shut behind them.

Fred takes a step closer to the door, "Does this mean no coffee for you two?"

The only response is a muffled groan and Ginny's laughter.

* * *

Before anyone starts getting canonical on me, I _know_ the books say Hermione obliviated her parents before their seventh year. But! She never really goes home ever since the fifth book. I think she did it at the tender age of 15 because that's the point where she spends _every school break_ with the boys and away from her family. I think she saw how the wizarding world (Voldemort and Umbridge) could hurt her family and she stored them away until she (and the boys I guess) saved the world.


	10. Chapter 10: One More Hour

AN:

Rights to JKR. Trans rights are human rights. Black lives matter. Stay safe, stay alive, stay kind.

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who has reviewed and left me something nice, especially Thespianpoet and flyintherightdirection. You all have no idea what reviews mean to me. Every time I post a chapter, I'm worried it's not funny or that it's totally out of character. Seriously - this happens _every_ time I post. So thank you everyone for letting me know how you're enjoying it!

Uh… hi. Sorry for the long absence. I got the Big 2020 Sick and used _some_ time for writing, but I spent most of the time lying in bed hoping for the sweet relief of death. Okay, that was a bit dramatic. I had a very mild case and didn't have to go to the hospital, but it still sucked a lot. I'm very thankful and so so blessed not to have had a worse case. Also the arcade scene took me _forever_ to write. I literally wanted to hit my head against the wall every time I worked on that part. I ended up rewriting several times and then totally scrapping it and writing the bit I have now.

Anywho- we're back! Hopefully I can pick everything back up and post a second chapter later this month or early next month. From now on, the chapters will be a bit longer than the first couple because I have more content in my timeline for these chapters. So leave me a review for some motivation and let me know if you like it. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 10

One More Hour

Friday, August 31st

"Harry, tell Ginny I'm so sorry to miss it. She knows I wish I could be there, but I'm just so swamped. Half my employees are sick with the flu and then a vendor was late and now-"

"It's okay. I get it. Ginny will get it. You go run your crazy bookstore and fix everything. It'll be fine. We'll see you at the afterparty though, right?" Harry interrupts her and leans back on his heels, away from Hermione's head looking up at him from the flames in his fireplace.

"Yeah, I'll be there, maybe a little bit late, but I'll be there. Cheer her on for me, okay?"

"For sure. We'll see you later."

"Thanks, Harry." Hermione smiles gratefully up at him before sitting back and pulling her head out of the green flames. Sighing, she stands and walks back downstairs to relieve an employee for their lunch.

Despite leaving the bookstore 20 minutes late, she is still the first one to arrive at the pub everyone agreed to meet at to celebrate Ginny's first professional Quidditch game with the Holyhead Harpies.

Watching the door for her friends, Hermione sips her second virgin blackberry mojito and tries not to make eye contact with a tall dark someone that had been eyeing her ever since she had stepped into the place. A waitress arrives with a third drink and sets it on the table before Hermione.

"I didn't order this," Hermione asserts, sliding the drink back to the waitress.

The waitress smiles and wipes moisture from her hands onto her apron, "It's from the gentleman at the bar. He's been trying to get your attention for a while. You haven't noticed?"

"I noticed, but I'm waiting for some friends. Not looking for a date," Hermione mumbles and glancing at the man watching from the bar.

"You might want to tell _him_ that," the waitress murmurs as she and Hermione watch the man stand and start walking over to Hermione's booth.

The waitress leaves to clear away a few glasses from a few tables over just as the man leans against a chair at Hermione's booth.

"Philip Elton. What's your name, love?"

"Sorry, but I'm waiting for a couple friends. Do you mind?"

"Not at all." And instead of leaving, Philip Elton sits in the chair at the end of the booth and smiles in what was obviously supposed to be a charming display of dazzling white teeth, but only served to remind Hermione of a certain professor still housed in Saint Mungo's. "I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't say," Hermione frowns and crosses her arms.

Unperturbed, Philip Elton grins easily and takes a drink from the glass he had brought over from the bar. "No worries if you don't want to tell me," He grins, leaning across the table closer to her. "Mind if I call you Mary?"

"I'd rather be alone, thanks."

"Aw, don't be like that, Mary. How could I let such a beautiful woman deal with the kind of riffraff in this joint all alone?"

"I'd _really_ prefer to wait for my friends alone."

"And I'm saying you don't have to. Consider yourself lucky, Mary. I'll take the time to wait for your friends with you." With that, he leans even closer to Hermione and settles a rather clammy hand on Hermione's bare knee.

A hand lands on his shoulder. "Sorry mate, but her friends just arrived. Kindly remove your hand from her knee before _she_ breaks it or _I_ do."

Philip Elton turns in his chair to see Ginny, Harry, Ron, Angelina, George, Neville, and Hannah with Fred's hand on his shoulder.

Seeing he's far outnumbered, Philip Elton stands and raises a hand to Hermione in farewell before heading back to the bar to pay off his tab. "See you around, Mary."

"Mary?" Fred raises an eyebrow at Hermione and slides into the booth by Neville and Hannah.

Hermione waves it away. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Gits like that say they're good blokes and nice to women, but they only treat women well if there's something in it for them. Absolute wankers and not worth the effort it takes to pound real respect into their puny heads."

"But we're always so thankful and amused when you take the time to bash it in anyway," Angelina laughs, joining the others in the booth.

Ron squeezes by Hermione to get into the booth when he notices the empty glasses in front of her. "Woah, 'Mione, wait for the rest of us to show up before you start getting plastered."

"Oh, shut it. Those were all virgin. Ginny! How did the game go? I'm so sad to have missed it!" Hermione pinches Ron on the side as she moves past him to hug Ginny.

Ginny squeezes Hermione to her in a crushing embrace. "We won!"

"Can't. Breathe-" Hermione manages to grasp out while turning slightly red in the face.

"Right, sorry sorry." Ginny immediately let's go but pulls Hermione back into a much gentler hug before finally releasing her.

"We're all terribly proud of her. She made the first shot of the game, and it was absolutely brilliant." George throws his arm around her shoulder and ruffles her hair.

"What happened?"

"The keeper made some comment about her arse and how being Harry Potter's girlfriend is the only reason she made the team. So-"

"-I threw the quaffle so hard he fell backwards off the broom and through the goal." Ginny's face splits into a broad grin and Harry kisses her cheek while the others hoot in laughter at the memory.

Looking around, Hermione notices a couple people missing. "Where are Dean and Seamus? And Luna? I thought they were coming."

Harry hands her a fresh mojito. "Made it to the game, but couldn't make the party. Dean and Seamus had an anniversary dinner and Luna couldn't miss her portkey back to the Congo. Apparently she and that Scamander bloke she's been dating have discovered a new subspecies in the Crumple-Horned Snorkack family."

Hermione shakes her head, smiling. "I can't believe she found an _actual_ Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Too bad I missed her at the game though. I find myself missing her dreamy proclamations every once in a while."

"She really brightens the room, doesn't she?" Harry grins and sits next to Ginny and Ron, gesturing for Hermione to follow her into the booth.

It takes three rounds for everyone to fill Hermione in with excruciating detail on _everything_ that happened during the game. Which player did what ploy or feint, how the teams worked together and their different strategies, what Ron was eating during which part, and how Luna compares the other team's seeker to a Whirly Hagmort or some other creature of questionable existence.

After a particularly long winded and frankly crude story about Seamus' gastrointestinal problems, Hermione flicks a chip at George's face. "Alright! I think I'm rather pleased I missed that bit."

George simply picks the chip up from his lap and eats it, grinning at Hermione.

"You know, sometimes I question my own taste in men. Maybe I should stick to girls. What do you think, 'Mione? Should I go for the sister?" Angelina asks, winking at Ginny who laughs.

Hermione snorts, "If you think she'd take you over Harry, I think it's definitely an upgrade looks-wise on your end."

"Oi, 'Mione. Lay of my _identical _twin will you?" Fred grumbles from across the table.

"Thanks, Forge. Knew I could count on you for the support. Besides," George inserts, "You already said yes, Angelina Johnson. I am taking your name and that is _final_."

Angelina laughs and kisses his cheek. At that moment, the waitress slides a glass in front of Ron who looks up in surprise. She winks at him. "From the tall blond guy in the corner."

The twins look up to check out the guy making eyes at Ron (who has turned a lovely shade of red that clashes horribly with his hair).

Hermione nudges Ron with her shoulder. "You should go talk to him."

"Yeah, Ronnie. Go talk to him." George choruses while Fred wolf whistles.

Still a magnificent red, Ron stands and shyly readjusts his shirt before turning to the twins. "My middle finger salutes you." He then sharply turns on his heel (only stumbling the smallest bit from his three previous drinks) and makes his way over to the blond in the corner.

Hermione turns back to Ginny and smiles at the girl. "For the most part, the game sounded wonderful, and I can't wait to be there for your next one."

Ginny smiles at her, winking. "You'd better not miss the next one or I'll pummel you."

Neville tips his pint at Hermione and somewhat gently, though rather on the painful side, nudges her shin with his foot. "She really means it. I'd be there if I were you."

Hermione laughs, "I'll be there!"

Harry grins at his girlfriend. "Brilliant. Now that that's out of the way," he lifts his pint into the air, "To Ginny and the Holyhead Harpies!"

"To knocking sexist keepers off their brooms!" George lifts his own drink in a toast.

Fred lifts his own in agreement with a crooked grin. "Here, here!"

With several splashes and a raucous clink, the rest of the partygoers crash their glasses together over the table before drinking deeply.

Later in the evening, after Neville and Hannah had retired for the evening (Neville claiming he wanted an early start in preparing his office as the new Herbology professor at Hogwarts) and long after Ron had abandoned the party for the blond, two more members of the party prepare to leave.

Angelina pulls free from George's tugging toward the door. "Hermione! Molly wanted me to tell you to come to dinner on Sunday. It's a party for Ginny, so take work off for the night and make sure you can come!"

"I'll figure something out!" Hermione calls back to her friend, laughing at George's rather ridiculous attempts to get Angelina home with him.

Finally giving in, Angie rolls her eyes and waves to the remaining four partygoers as she's pulled out the door.

Neither Harry nor Ginny look up from their _involved_ state at their original booth to bid them farewell.

"Oi, Gin. Hop off the savior of the world before it gets indecent. Go home or find an alley. No one wants to see that," Fred calls from his seat next to Hermione at the bar.

Glaring, Ginny slides off Harry's lap and pulls him up with her. Walking past the two, she smiles and winks at Hermione. "See you Sunday."

Harry stops briefly before the two, flushed and glancing around. "Where's Ron?"

"He left about an hour ago with the guy that sent him a drink. He said not to wait up," Hermione smiles at his sheepish expression.

"Right, well. See you Sunday," Harry grins and backs away, waving as Ginny pulls him through the bar and out into the night.

Fred chuckles and drains his glass, "Guess it's just you and me then. Another round?"

"One more hour couldn't hurt," Hermione smiles as she pops a blackberry from her drink into her mouth.

Fred signals the bartender. "Another virgin? Want any alcohol?"

"Sans the alcohol please. I don't particularly like drinking."

"What about the drinking nights and parties like Harry and Neville's birthday?"

"I usually tap out early and either read in another room or watch you idiots fall all over yourselves."

"Who are you calling- okay, but we don't-" Fred stops his stuttering and takes a drink from his new glass to collect his thoughts. "You drank at the wedding."

"Special circumstances," Hermione grants, sipping at the drink one of the bartenders had just placed before her.

"And Ginny's team winning their game isn't a special circumstance?" Fred grins and tilts his head, leaning on his forearm over the bar.

Hermione rolls her eyes, "I can have fun and enjoy myself without muddling my brain and ruining my liver."

"_That's _what I'm looking for. You don't have to make excuses with me, 'Mione. I like you best when you're honest." Grinning from ear to ear, Fred bumps Hermione's elbow with his own.

Hermione laughs, pushing him gently away. "Then _honestly, _you're a prat."

"You _wound_ me."

"Not too deep, I'd imagine. Nothing I say can really pierce your thick hide."

"No, truly. Cut me to the quick you do." At Hermione's laughter, Fred stands and offers his hand to her. "Dance with me?"

"I don't know what delusion you're in, but this place doesn't quite seem to be the dancing environment, Fred," Hermione states, looking around.

Fred grins again and gestures with his extended hand. "I know a place two streets down. You'll have fun. Besides, we didn't get the chance to finish dancing at the wedding."

Hermione takes his hand and they duck out the door all their friends had disappeared through earlier in the night.

Before Fred and Hermione even enter the dancing club, they can hear Latin music emanating from the inside. And just after they walk in to see a throng of people dancing the tango, Hermione stops Fred before he can pull her onto the dance floor.

"Fred, wait," She takes a worried glance back to the dancing couples and begins to chew her lip. "I don't know how to dance to this. This is nothing like the dancing Mcgonagall taught us."

Fred squeezes her hand, smiling reassuringly down at her. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing, and these dances are pretty simple. There are a few set steps and then you improv a bit. You're a quick study, 'Mione. You can do this, and I won't let you fall."

Hermione gives him a small smile and nods before he grins and pulls her onto the corner of the dance floor to show her the steps.

Hermione is thoroughly impressed in Fred's ability to lead. She has only stepped on his toes twice, and even then it merely caused her to briefly stumble before Fred successfully coaxes her back into the correct steps.

After a particularly fast salsa, Hermione sighs in relief when the slower rumba is played.

"Do you need a break?" Fred asks, twirling her under his arm.

"After this dance, yes. So many steps I'm beginning to get them jumbled," Hermione admits rather sheepishly.

Fred smiles as she successfully completes a cucaracha set. "You're doing brilliantly, 'Mione. I'm impressed with your ability to pick it up so quickly."

The song ends, and Fred escorts Hermione around the other couples toward several standing tables on the edge of the room.

Fred leaves Hermione at a table while he goes to the bathroom. Almost immediately as she's left alone, another man walks up to her table.

"Care to dance?"

"Sorry, I'm taking a bit of a break," Hermione smiles apologetically at him.

The man makes a rather attractive pouting face and leans against her table opposite her. "Just one? I promise you'll have fun."

"Thanks, mate, but she's having plenty of fun with me. Why don't you run along and find another partner?" Fred takes that moment to reappear and put his arm around Hermione's waist.

Huffing, the stranger stalks off in search of some other poor girl. Fred drops his arm from Hermione's waist and moves around the table to occupy the space the other man had just left.

"Seems like every time I leave you alone, you've got another guy begging for attention," Fred nudges her with his elbow in a tease.

Hermione simply rolls her eyes. "What can I say; I have a lot to offer."

"That you do."

Blushing, Hermione gives him a soft push when he looks her up and down.

"How did you get into Latin dancing?" Hermione finally asks after a moment of silence between them while they watch the dancing.

Fred smiles but doesn't take his eyes off the couples. "Angelina had George take a couple classes to learn with her. Problem is, George is a terrible dancer and had me practice the girl part with him every night. I really enjoyed the dancing, and I occasionally bring- brought- girls here on dates."

Hermione nudges him with a grin. "Brought? Past tense?"

"Yeah, I don't date all that much anymore... Too busy with the shop and our new projects," Fred admits, grinning at her.

"So where else did you take these girls?"

He laughs and leans against the table. "Have you ever been to the late night arcade down the street? They have _the best _chips. Why are you laughing? Chips are _important_. No seriously, I think I've made an incredible discovery for the chip fans of the world," Fred informs her in a mock serious voice, clearly enjoying her laughter.

"How can something as arbitrary as chips be an 'incredible discovery?'" Hermione questions, folding .

Fred wags his finger at her, grinning slyly. "One day I'll get you to try the chips, and you'll see."

Hermione rolls her eyes and he continues. "Ready to dance again?"

They join hands again and take up the steps to a mamba.

After several dances, Hermione begins to feel confident in the steps and rhythm, slowly relaxing her body into the music and allowing Fred to lead her into improvised steps rather than the set steps he showed her when they first arrived at the dance club.

Breathing heavily after the dance, Fred guides her to the back of the dance floor, holding her close to avoid being in the way of the other dancers. "Do you want to try a lift?"

"Do you think you can lift me?" Hermione questions, biting her lip nervously.

Fred gives her an incredulous look before grinning crookedly. "Hermione. Didn't we have this conversation before? You're tiny. Besides," he grins wickedly and flexes his biceps. "Do you really think I would drop you?"

She smiles timidly, looking from his biceps up to his face. "Okay then."

He begins positioning her as he speaks. "First step, stand in front of me with your back to me. Lift your right leg up and I'm going to hold your thigh to support you. Is this okay?"

She nods, blushing from the intimate contact, thankful her back is to him.

"Right. So next, put your right arm behind my neck and hold on tightly. I wrap my arm around your waist. And when I lift you off the floor, jump with me and bend your left leg up into the air. Ready to try?"

Hermione nods again.

"Okay, this time we're going to start with you spinning into the position then go with the lift like… this." Fred turns Hermione into his chest and lifts her effortlessly before letting her down gently. "How do you feel?"

Hermione beams, the thrill of moving together rushing in her veins. "Well, you didn't drop me, so I think it'll be fine."

"Brilliant. Let's try it," Fred grins and takes her hand to pull her back into the crowd.

"Last dance!" An announcement blares through the speaker as the first notes of a salsa start up.

Fred grins at Hermione, "Think you can do one more?"

"One more," Hermione smiles and takes Fred's hand.

He pulls her back onto the dance floor, expertly leading her in a sultry salsa.

As the song escalates Hermione can feel the beat vibrating through the floor and up into her body. She lets the sensuous music guide her movements. She follows Fred through a series of complicated steps leading to the turn and up into the lift he had taught her earlier.

The end of the song finds them in a dip, out of breath, and close, noses just barely not touching. Exhilarated by the heat of the dance, they're frozen for a moment before the lights come up. Fred lifts Hermione from her dip, and they pull away from their close embrace, both blushing profusely.

Fred clears his throat and takes her hand, guiding her out of the way of the throng making toward the door. "Are you tired?"

"Not particularly," Hermione shakes her head, chewing her lip and glancing around.

Fred's face splits in a grin. "Are you up for the best chips of your life?"

"I could eat. What's one more hour anyway?" Hermione smiles in return, her cheeks still a pretty pink.

"Follow me." Fred tightens his grip on her hand and pulls her back out into the night.

The two take their small trays of chips from the food counter to an eating area where they sit at a low circular table.

Fred waits for Hermione to try a chip first, expectantly awaiting her reaction.

"What?" She asks, confused by his staring.

He motions excitedly to the chips. "Try one."

Rolling her eyes but still grinning, Hermione takes one of the chips and pops it into her mouth, chewing and nodding her.

"Aren't they just fantastic? I could eat them everyday."

Hermione grins and wipes her mouth with a paper napkin. "I seem to recall _someone_ saying that _my_ diet was unhealthy."

"Chips are made from potatoes. Potatoes are healthy," Fred quips, grinning wolfishly.

"It's the _oil_ and _salt_-"

"You don't seem to mind the oil and salt when it's your takeout food."

"Touché... They are quite good," she smiles, eating another as Fred tucks into his**.**

A half hour later finds them sitting at the same table and Fred telling a story about how a cousin insulted his mother's cooking. "-And you know how my mum is about her bridie."

Hermione shakes her head. "I haven't had your mum's bridie. I've actually never had bridie before.

"Never had- You've never had a bridie before?"

Hermione simply shakes her head again, slightly amused at his astonishment.

"I was almost positive we had them at some point together during holiday at the Burrow."

"No, never."

"Well it just so happens that I know how to make an absolutely _smashing _bridie. I'll have to make it for dinner sometime."

Hermione laughs and pops the last of Fred's chips into her mouth. "I look forward to it."

Suddenly the lights come up in the arcade and the staff begin calling for people to pay their tabs.

Fred turns to Hermione. "I know another pub around the corner. Tomorrow you're not working, yeah? So maybe one more?"

"One more hour. I'm trusting you here though. If this place is sketchy, you'll be paying for my cab fare home."

"You don't trust me even after the chips and all the fun we had dancing? I'm beginning to question your taste, 'Mione."

She rolls her eyes and stands. "Lead the way."

They finally get their drinks from the overcrowded bar and find a secluded table for two in a back corner where a lone stiletto pump lay discarded.

Hermione takes a drink from her virgin martini. "What are you working on right now?"

"What, now? Like my drink?"

"No, I mean at the shop," Hermione laughs gently. "Haven't you started a new project? George said something earlier about you working late on some big project."

Fred leans back against the bar, grinning mischievously. "There's no way you'll get me to spill, 'Mione. I told you at the wedding it was a secret project you inspired."

"So it's the same thing? My project and the big project?"

"What do you mean?" Fred tilts his head to the side, his eyes questioning.

Hermione ducks her head to take a drink before looking back up to him. "I thought perhaps _my_ project was maybe something you did in your spare time when you're bored."

"Hermione, how could anything you inspire be anything but a grand and intricate endeavor?" He asks, gently tugging on one of her curls.

Her eyes look up to meet his, and her breathing hitches as she unthinkingly leans closer to him. He winds his finger through the curl and leans slowly closer to her, eyes flicking to her mouth.

Just before their lips meet, what looks like a drunk bride at her bachelorette party knocks into their table and the two break apart.

Hermione stands and clears her throat, avoiding eye contact. "We should…"

"Probably head home. Yeah," Fred stands as well, looking at the floor and face flaming.

They walk out of the pub as the sun comes up and they lean against the building, watching as dawn slowly brightens the sky.

"Ready to head home?"

Hermione sighs and looks back at Fred, giving him a slightly rueful smile. "I suppose. Would you mind if we went to see Tilley's flowers first? He's always telling me how beautiful they are in the morning sun."

"You spend all night having fun with me and the first thing you want to do is go see some other bloke's shop? How twisted is that." Fred growls in mock jealousy.

Hermione simply laughs and offers her hand, which he readily takes. "C'mon then. Maybe you can meet him."

They apparate into another alley a few doors down from Tilley's shop. Neither removes their hand from the other's. Neither of them mention it.

Fred uses his hand to block the sun in his eyes but looks back to Hermione when she suddenly starts giggling.

"Godrick, I haven't stayed out all night in a _long_ time.."

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"_Immensely_. I really needed a night of ridiculous fun. But I'm pretty excited for my bed at this point."

"Who says the night of fun has to end when you get to bed?" Fred quips, winking at her and bouncing his eyebrows.

"Pretty sure I'd be useless at this point. I'd collapse and start snoring as soon as my head hit the pillow."

"I don't mind doing all the work."

Hermione laughs and releases his hand to push him slightly away from him. "Prat."

Fred just chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets.

They reach the bookshop and stop, staring up at it for a minute in silence. Fred turns to her, but before he can speak, she sighs. "I suppose we had better go up."

Fred furrows his brow but stays quiet. They walk through the bookshop and up the stairs and through the front door in silence.

Hermione reaches her bedroom door and leans against it, opening it behind her. "Good night, Fred."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

They walk into their respective bedrooms and prepare for bed.

* * *

AN: Something came to my attention while I was writing this chapter - what happens at Hogwarts if September 1st is a weekend? Do they start school the following Monday or still go up to school and wait until Monday for the classes to begin? So I did a bit of googling and saw that most school in our muggle world start classes the following Monday if September 1st is on a weekend. And that's what I'm going with here :)

Also! In case you haven't caught on… Ron and Angelina are both bi or pan or queer. Ginny is as well and Charlie is ace, but I'm not exploring those two areas in this fic - maybe in another fic? Not really sure. Would any of you _like_ for more lgbtqai+ representation/fics? I _do_ have a Drarry in the works… Review and let me know!


End file.
